Atonement
by alice.in.ink
Summary: While on vacation, someone targets Sam and twin sister Kate, making Dean go into Big Brother Mode-even more so than usual. As the trio of siblings tries to untangle the situation, the attacks become increasingly personal. (T for violence and language) (Sequel to "Everybody Changes")
1. Sam is Satan

**Welcome back, you lovely readers! For those of you just joining us, go and check out my other work** ** _Everybody Changes_** **. This is a sequel to that lil' guy.  
(But I'm not your mom. If you're ignoring the above suggestion, here's what you need to know: Katelyn Winchester is the younger twin sister of Sam (but she would like you to know that the age difference is only two minutes). The three Winchesters encountered some asshat witches in the last story, so our favorite siblings are a bit bitter towards any magic-bearing entities.)**

 **A bit of backstory concerning our favorite angel: In the past year, Cas unintentionally screwed over the Winchesters by handing their asses to some vengeful angels. As such, Dean would like it if he would keep the hell away from his siblings (and this story) for the foreseeable future.**

 **Thanks for embarking! Like last time, I'll be updating every day until this story is flushed out.**

 **Enjoy!**

 _"I'll start the oven_

 _And get the house warm_

 _For you to land in_

 _When you return._

 _I'll start the oven_

 _And get the house warm_

 _For you to land in_

 _And watch you burn."_

 _-Greg Laswell,_ Watch You Burn

 ** _Chapter 1: Sam is Satan_**

"' _This is a low-flying panic attack,'_ " I sang along to my phone's music. _God bless you, Radiohead._ "' _Sing the song of sixpence that goes…'_ "

In that minute, I was politely laying on the motel bed, singing to my music, and respecting my own goddamn business. In the next, I was being tackled to the floor by a shouting beast.

Instantly on the defensive, I scrambled to get my arms up and push.

Sam grabbed my arms and pinned them in-between us. "Where'd it go, Kate?!"

My mind was whirling. "What the hell, Sam?!"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You took my hunting knife!"

 _OK, now I'm just insulted_. I shoved him back. "No, I didn't!"

Sam glared at me, stood up, and started rifling through my duffel bag.

I jumped up and shoved his giant shoulder. "Why the hell would I take your freaking knife, huh? You're being paranoid— _again_."

He whirled on me, still glaring. "It's not paranoia when you've been going through my stuff every day all week!"

I glared back and took a step closer. "Well, maybe I wouldn't have to sneak through your crap if _you_ would stop taking _my_ phone charger!" I noticed my phone wasn't playing music anymore—it'd been shoved the floor hard enough to turn off. I returned my glare to the offending party (and DOUCHE-BAG EXTRAORDINAIRE!).

The door swung open, and Dean, holding food in his arms, instantly recognized our stand-off. "Hey, hey! You two need to simmer the crap down!"

Sam and I continued glaring each other down. Our fists balled.

"I said _knock it off_ ," Dean demanded, pushing us apart. He shoved two bags of food against our chests. "Eat, and get over whatever crawled up your asses this time."

"I'm going to punch you if you touch me ever again," I threatened Sam, snatching up my food bag from Dean.

"As if you could reach," Sam snapped back, grabbing his bag.

"COOL IT!" Dean shouted.

"He tackled me to the ground—" I defended.

"Because she couldn't—" Sam accused.

"I SWEAR TO GOD I AM GOING TO HURT YOU BOTH IF YOU DO NOT SHUT UP," Dean demanded, his voice becoming that parental tone. "Katelyn, go to the couch and eat your crap. Sam, go to the bed and eat your crap. Now."

With final glowers, Sam and I marched to opposite ends of the room and opened up our fast food bags.

"This isn't my salad," Sam complained, holding up a double cheeseburger.

"K, well I didn't order rabbit food," I said, holding up his stupid salad.

Sam lobbed the burger at me, nailing me in the face. Rage fueled me, and I gripped the salad to chuck.

" _Hey!_ " Dean grabbed the salad from me before tossing it over to Sam's bed. "God! What the hell has gotten into you two?!"

Sam ignored him and went for his salad, and I did likewise with my burger.

Dean turned to me and screwed his face up. "Is it… your time of the month?"

I chewed my burger and gave my brother an exasperated look.

Dean turned to Sam. "Is it… your time of the month?"

Sam angrily rolled his eyes and packed up his salad. "I'm going somewhere else."

"Drama queen," I muttered around my burger.

Sam strutted towards me. "What is your problem?!" Dean stood in between us.

I stood up. "You! You've been so goddamn annoying this whole week! I swear to God, everything you do makes me want to punch you in the face!"

"Likewise!" His glare was harsh.

"WHAT! THE! CRAP!" Dean shoved Sam back towards the bed. "You two need to figure out what the hell is actually going on, _right now_."

"Maybe somebody voodoo cursed Sam to have a fart-filled personality and old man nipples!" I suggested.

" _God, you got cursed one time!_ " Sam rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "Not everything is supernatural! I just can't live with a nosy, self-righteous bitch!"

"Well, you managed to share a freaking womb with me just fine, asshat!"

"QUIET!" Dean barked at me before turning to Sam and screeching the same order. "Sam, when did you start hating our sister?"

"Feels like forever," Sam responded, crossing his arms and glowering at me.

Dean gave him an oh-please squint before turning to me. "Kate, when?"

I crossed my arms and thought back quickly. "I've been plotting his murder since at least Monday."

Dean gave me an eye roll at my dramatics. "OK, that's the day after we showed up in this town. But there isn't even a case here, so…"

"So Kate's intolerable," Sam interjected, "and either she goes or I do."

I gave a short laugh and snatched my leather jacket off the couch. "Gladly!"

Dean grabbed my sleeve. "Nobody's going anywhere! Now, you two idiots are going to scour this freaking room until we find a voodoo doll or a hex bag or whatever the hell is making you two go murder-crazy." He nudged me towards the couch and started searching. Sam and I grudgingly obeyed, even though I was sure that the only thing tainting the room was his rotten existence.

After five minutes of searching under beds and cushions and couches and mattresses and sinks, I threw up my hands. "Surprise! There's nothing here."

Dean turned on me with The Point. "Keep looking."

"Uh, Dean?" Sam's confused voice came from the bathroom. He was crouched underneath the sink.

"I already checked there," I hissed.

"Not well enough, then," Sam shot back, ripping a duct taped hex bag off the underside of the counter. "But that's not exactly surprising."

"Mother of God," Dean muttered and snatched the hex bag from Sam. He ripped it open to see a few animal bones, some type of powder and a few brunette hairs—human and long. Mine and Sam's.

"Great, you made friends with another freaking witch," I accused Sam.

" _Me?!_ You're the one who royally screwed up last time we ran into a coven!"

"Alright, well I've had enough of this crap," Dean grumbled before whipping out his lighter. He pushed the flame against the bag and tossed the flaming bag into the metal trashcan.

Like flipping a switch, all of the aggression and brewing rage in my chest smothered out. Sam and I blinked at each other in surprise.

"Oh," I said softly. Sam looked remorseful.

"Yeah, oh," Dean said and crossed his arms. "You two good now?"

We nodded slowly. "Sam, I'm—"

"No, I'm really sorry, Kate," he rushed to apologize. "I was such a freaking _dick_ to you."

"Yeah, me too," I said, my cheeks coloring as I thought of the crap Sam and I had said to each other these past few days.

"Well now that that's settled, who befriended the freaking witch?" Dean looked between us.

Sam shrugged. "I-I've been researching. And hanging out here, trying to find a case…"

I frowned. "I've been doing the same. I went to the movies yesterday, but other than that, I haven't exactly interacted with the people here."

Dean looked to the heavens. "My siblings are such losers."

Sam ignored his griping and pointed to our brother. "Dean, you're the one who brought home that girl on Sunday."

As Dean smirked fondly, I wrinkled my nose. "Ew. Yeah, and Sam and I had to sit out in the Impala."

Dean snapped out of his daydream. "Hey, just because I bring home one lady-friend does _not_ mean that's she's a freaking witch, OK? I can get a woman without being a means to a supernatural end." He gave us his best bitch face.

"Dean, that was the same time that Kate and I started hating each other," Sam added.

Dean considered this for a moment before grudgingly giving into the idea. "Fine, maybe she slipped us a hex bag when she went into the bathroom. But she didn't exactly target _me,_ did she?"

"Well, someone could have convinced her to plant the bag," I suggested. "Somebody that has it out for me and Sam, I guess." I narrowed my eyes to the crappy, blue carpet as I mulled that over. _Who the hell would come after just me and Sam?_

Dean turned on me with a point. "No. _No_. Nobody paid that girl to sleep with me."

"She didn't say that, Dean," Sam said in exasperation.

"I said that somebody paid the chick to single you out and sneak into your bathroom." I smirked.

Dean narrowed his eyes on me. "Then why didn't the bag affect me, wiseass?"

That was a good question. "Your winning smile spared you…?" My sympathetic expression ensured him that I didn't actually believe that.

"We'll have to find her and ask," Sam said, going for his jacket.

"Fine," Dean said as he grabbed his keys off the table. "But I'll be doing the questioning, got it?" He headed for the door without waiting for an answer. I grabbed my cheeseburger and followed.

Sam rolled his eyes and followed us out the door. "Dean, we need to work together—"

"Oh, quit being such a bitch," Dean threw back, stuffing his cheeseburger in his mouth.

"Jerk," I called him out, chewing my own cheeseburger.

"Pansy," they said to me together. My jerky brothers exchanged grins and got into the front of the Impala.

I glared, not caring that they were just finishing the typical, siblings' insults. "Really, Sam? Right after I defend you?" He ignored me (as stupid brothers do), forcing me to grumble more colorful insults and get into the car.


	2. An Introduction

**Alright, giant shout-out to Happygoddess2003. I LOVE YOU, AND I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR YOUR UNDYING SUPPORT! Thank you for always extending your kind thoughts! :)**

 ** _Chapter 2: An Introduction_**

"Andrea," Dean breathed with a smile. He looked the busty, blonde bar tender up and down, and his eyes lingered on the bosom that stretched her tank top. "You look incredible."

She wasn't nearly as into him as she was on Sunday night. With barely a glance in his direction, she continued drying glasses. "What do you want, Dane?"

Dean's smile faltered, and from our table a few feet away, Sam and I tried to restrain our laughs. "Well, I was hoping you could help me out with something." He gripped an iron crowbar underneath the bar ledge. "Why'd you give plant a hex bag?"

Andrea looked up in alarm. "What?"

Dean lightly placed the crowbar on the bar—a silent warning. "You ain't the first witch-bitch I've met; I know your weaknesses."

Andrea stumbled backwards. "I-I didn't know what it was! You believe in witches?"

Dean leaned over the counter with a scowl. "You made me deal with freaking lunatic siblings for nearly a week, Andrea. Why?"

She floundered for words.

Dean slammed the crowbar against the bar. "Why?!"

Andrea looked panicked. "Some guy paid me, OK!" _Ha. There goes Dean's ego._ "He, he texted me with an offer of a thousand dollars if I brought that bag to your motel, put some hairs in it, and taped it to the sink! And, you were hot, so it was kind of a win-win situation, you know?" _Ugh. Dean's ego was back._

"Whose hair?" Dean demanded.

"Your siblings," she answered with a wave towards us. "I got it from their brushes in the bathroom. Look, I know it was creepy, but I didn't see the harm, so whatever."

"Who's the guy?" Dean pressed.

She shrugged. "I don't know. He just dropped the money off in here the next morning. I don't know how he got my number or anything."

"We're going to need to see your security footage," I said, getting up from the table.

"And that phone number," Sam added.

* * *

I was watching security footage in the bar's backroom with Dean hovering over my shoulder. So, far no suspicious people showed up on Sunday night's video.

"I called the number, and it said it's been disconnected," Sam said, focused on his laptop on his lap. "And I tried tracing the phone, but it didn't come up. It had to have been a burner phone that he used for that night only."

"Great." Dean rubbed a hand down his face.

I fast-forwarded the footage until it was on Monday morning. Around eight, a man dressed in dark clothing walked right up to the empty bar, dropped an envelope on the counter, and kept walking out the back door. I tried zooming in on the guy, but he never faced the camera.

"Andrea, are there any other security cameras?" I called out.

From the other room, Andrea answered, "No. I had one out in the back, but it broke on Sunday, and I can't afford to fix it yet."

"Well, that's convenient," Dean commented. Sam and I nodded.

We packed up and headed out as Dean made Andrea promise to call if the guy showed up again. I dragged him out as he offered to have her call, period.

As Dean took us back onto the main road, Sam requested, "Drop me off at the library; I'm going to try to see if there's anything I can find that connects to these hex bags."

Dean rolled his eyes. "We're here on _vacation_ , Sammy. You know that there's nothing happening in this town which is why we chose to lay low here."

Sam raised incredulous eyebrows. "Well, obviously something is happening here if somebody planted a hex bag."

Dean gave a grudgingly dismissive wave and turned the car in the direction of the library.

When we pulled up, Sam turned towards me. "You wanna come help?"

I grimaced slightly. "As much as I love research…"

Sam good-naturedly rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just look into the case, alright?" I gave a nod, and he unfolded out of the car.

As he pulled away, Dean grumbled something about being on vacation.

"Drop me off at the minimart," I said as we got closer to the motel. "We're out of food."

Dean gave a dramatic groan and swung into the minimart parking lot. "Fine. If you and Sam got the whole responsible adult thing covered, I'm gonna hit up some bars and try to figure out the hex bag."

I rolled my eyes fondly and kissed him on the cheek before jumping out of the car. "Don't get too wasted, you wild teenager, you."

Dean smirked before giving me a serious look. "You call me if anything seems funky to you, alright? We don't know who the crap has it bad for you and Sammy."

I slammed the door shut and said through the window, "I think I can handle buying some Doritos without getting jumped." I pushed away from the car, but Dean called me back. I leaned back into the window.

"Are you OK?" he asked, his eyes searching me.

I squinted. "Yeah. Why?"

He shrugged and looked around. "The last time we ran into some freaking witches, it…" He trailed off, knowing that I got the message.

I waved him off. "It was over a year ago, Dean. I can handle myself."

He gave me The Point. "Anything funky, you call."

I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't give Sam this speech."

Dean gave me the oh-please bitch face. "Sam is a giant-ass man reading in a public library. I think I got my speeches straight here."

I pushed away from the car again and threw back the finger as I walked towards the minimart.

A bell dinged as I walked in, but the bored, teenage cashier didn't even look up from his phone. A couple other people were browsing, but I knew exactly where to head: snack aisle. I was peering down at the metal shelves, trying to decide between Cool Ranch Doritos and Funyuns when someone snuck up behind me.

"That's some relationship you have there." I whirled to see a blonde woman look at me with amused, but somewhat-exhausted eyes. I must've given her a confused look because she elaborated, "Your husband. You must have something special if you can flip him the bird so casually."

 _Oh._ "That was my brother," I clarified, turning back towards the chips. I grabbed the Funyuns. "And it's not that hard to express yourself when he's a pain in the ass." I gave her a parting smirk and headed for the beer.

This chick followed me. "Still, that was brass of you."

"Thanks." I tried to end the conversation there, but she hovered. "Do you need help with something…?" I pulled the cheapest pack of beer out of the fridge.

"Oh, no!" She gave a brittle laugh and ran a hand through her manicured hair. "Sorry, sorry. I… I just admire you, I guess." She gave me a sad smile. As she put her arm down, her cream blazer shifted, and I noticed bruises on her arm.

"Are you… OK?" I asked, giving a nod towards her arm.

She followed my stare and hurried to tug the sleeve back over her arm. "Yes, of course. I was in a car accident last week."

I gave a slow nod. "What happened?" _Maybe this is connected to our hex bag._

She looked down and searched for words. "I was driving over on the interstate, and I lost control of the car and hit a tree." She breathed a dim laugh. "It sounds ridiculous when I say it aloud."

 _OK, well that was suspicious._ I fished around in my wallet and pulled out one of my fake cards. "Here. Sounds like you're having a rough couple of weeks. I don't know how I can really help, but…" I shrugged. "Call if you need anything, I guess."

She blinked in surprise and accepted the card. "Th-thank you." She looked down at the card. "Tammy Yorke." She smiled up shyly at me. "I'm Caroline J-Jenkins."

I gave a nod and smile. "Good to meet you." I headed to the cashier.


	3. Sparks

**_Chapter 3: Sparks_**

When I headed back to the motel, my brothers were still out on the town. I took the opportunity to take a rarely-granted nap.

Sam launched himself at me, tackling me to the ground. I was instantly on the defensive.

"What the hell?!" I demanded.

Sam pinned my arms against my chest and snarled, "Why'd you take my stuff, Kate?"

I gaped in disbelief. "Sam, I thought we were—"

He cut me off with a sharp blow to my jaw. "Why?!"

I blinked in pain, and suddenly, we were no longer in the motel. We were no longer in Nowheresville, Florida. We were back in Michigan, back in that forest.

"No," I whispered, staring at the dark trees. I looked up at my towering, furious brothers.

"Why?!" Sam punctuated his anger with another punch, and I jolted—

Awake. It took me a minute to realize that I was in the motel in Florida, and my brothers weren't even here, let alone evil versions of them. I scrubbed my eyes with my fists and let out a shaky breath. I hadn't had a nightmare about That Night in a couple of weeks. I thought I was getting over it.

Then again, when your furious brother tackles you under the curse of a hex bag, witch and fratricide fears are bound to rear their ugly faces.

Trying to let off some steam, I changed out of my jeans and t-shirt for some shorts and a tank-top. I grabbed my phone in my hand and took off into the dusky evening for a run.

It was about thirty minutes later that my phone rang.

"Where'd you go?" Sam asked.

"Tell her to pick up some pie!" I heard Dean call out in the background.

I caught my breath and looked around at the abandoned building area I had wandered into. "I went for a run." _Better to leave out my exact location at this point._

"Oh," Sam said. "What do you want for dinner?"

" _Pie!_ " Dean's distant voice suggested.

"Whatever you want," I said, turning back for the motel. "I'm just going—"

"NO!" A child was screaming somewhere off to the left. Their screams pierced the air again, and I took off in a run.

"What's happening, Kate?" Sam's firm voice had an underlining of anxiety.

"A kid is screaming!" I rushed to explain, booking it as quickly as I could towards the building.

"STOP IT!"

"Where are you?!" Sam demanded.

"I don't know," I said, nearing the building. "Somewhere on the west end of the city. Track my phone!" And with that, I snapped the phone shut and busted in through a rusty, metal door.

" _NO!_ " A redhead boy was crumpled on the concrete on the opposite end of the building. His screaming stopped when I burst into the room.

I rushed over to him, looking around the vast storehouse. There was no one else in here.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" I asked the boy, using my most soothing voice. "I'm here to help you. It's OK now." I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, and the boy cried as he struggled to sit up.

"He, he hurt my head," the boy sobbed. He looked at me with watery, blue eyes. I pulled him towards me in a comforting hug, and he collapsed against me in tears. It was then that I noticed that the boy had been handcuffed to a structural support.

"OK," I said, "what's—"

"Smoke!" the boy cried, pointing behind me and clutching my arm. Dread washed over me as I turned. The kid was right: flames were sparking and spreading across the corners of the building. I looked down at the boy again and noticed that we were sitting in a puddle. I was willing to guess that whoever had did this didn't leave a puddle of water.

"OK, we got to get out of here." I kindly pushed him back and fished in my bra for a lock-pick. I pulled it out and set to work.

The boy started to whimper as the flames ate their way towards us, so I tried to distract him as I worked. "My name is Kate. What's your name?"

"S-Sammy," he sniveled back.

My hands froze for a fraction of a second before I kept picking. "That's a cool name! My brother has the same exact name as you, and I think it's the best."

"The fire!" Sammy cried, pointing at the flames. I could feel the heat; it was closing in.

"Got it." The handcuff sprang open, and I grabbed Sammy's hand and my phone. "OK, Sammy. Do you see a backdoor anywhere?" The flames were spreading upwards and had engulfed the door I had come in from. The smoke billowed and choked us out. I grabbed the edge of my shirt and pulled it up to cover my nose and mouth before helping Sammy to do the same.

"I wanna go home!" the boy wailed.

"I'm going to take you there," I vowed, tugging him towards the center of the room as the flames engulfed the side we had been at. I looked around the room, but the only other door was smothered in flames. The only windows were twenty feet up. I looked back to the door I had come in through. Flames shot around it, but our options were slim.

As I pulled Sammy closer to it, I asked him, "Did you ever learn how to stop, drop, and roll?"

He cried as he nodded frantically.

"OK," I knelt to his eye-level as we approached the flaming door. "I'm going to toss you outside, and you need to stop, drop, and roll. Can you do that?"

He looked at the fire and sagged in a sob. "I'm scared!"

"I know," I assured him. "I am too. But I know you can do this. Just pretend that you're a superhero, OK?" I coughed against the smoke. "I'm going to throw you on three." I grabbed him underneath his arms and neared the flaming door opening. "Ready?"

He wailed and nodded.

"Superman Sam!" I cheered him on. "One! Two! Three!" I threw him as far as I could, hoping that he wouldn't break anything on his way down. Like the champ he was, he instantly started rolling against the flames that had caught onto his clothes.

I was becoming lightheaded from all the smoke, but I pushed against the threatening fog in my brain. With a running start, I jumped through the door opening and dropped into a roll. I had been kneeling in the gasoline, making my skin and shoes light up instantly. I kicked out the flames, and rolled until they were out.

Sammy was standing beside me anxiously, scorch burns littering his clothes. _Poor kid._

"You, OK?" I asked through my raspy throat.

He nodded, and I smiled at him. "You were awesome, Sammy. Can you imagine how awesome this is gonna be when your school hears about it?" He smiled bashfully at that, and I pulled out my phone and informed 911 about a trapped kid that had just escaped a fire.

"Sammy, did you see who took you?" I said, knowing our time left together was limited.

He shook his head, his eyes rekindling the fear from earlier as he remembered. "I was at the playground, waiting for my mom, and he made me go with him. And he hit me, and I fell asleep, and he took me here, and he hurt me, and then _you_ came." He broke into tears again, and I clutched him to me.

"Shh, it's OK," I said. "You're safe now. You did so good, Sammy. Is there anything else you remember?"

"He, he told me to tell the next grownup I see somethin'." He sniffled.

I searched his despairing face. "What?"

"He said to say that it was for Dean." He looked sadly at me. "I don't know what that means."

Ice crawled through my chest, and I forced a reassuring smile on my face. "Yeah, me neither. I don't think it really means anything."

" _KATE!_ " My brothers were jumping out of the Impala a split second after it rolled to a stop. They looked at the flaming building behind me and then back to me with clear fear.

"I'm OK," I reassured them as they frantically ran up and looked me over. "The cops will be here any minute, so we gotta hurry."

"You hurt?" Dean demanded gruffly as Sam reassured the little boy.

I shook my head.

Dean gave a nod and went to walk me to the Impala.

"Wait." I knelt down in front of Sammy. "Sammy, you were so brave. And I need you to stay here and tell everybody what happened. Can you do that?"

His eyes were panicked. "Where are you going?"

I gave him a smile. "I got really hurt, so I have to go to the hospital right now. But I need you to be brave and tell our story. OK?"

He hesitated before nodding.

"You're the best superhero I've ever met," I told him in awe. "I need to get your autograph the next time I see you, because none of my friends are even going to believe that I met Superman Sam."

He smile bashfully, and my brothers and I hurried to the Impala as sirens wailed in the distance. We waited in the car long enough to see Sammy safely reach firefighters before we took off.

"You really OK?" Sam asked, turning in his seat to look me over again.

I nodded and let out a cough. "Just scratches and smoke. I'll live."

"The hell happened?" Dean demanded. His hands were tense on the steering wheel.

I recounted the story.

"And the kid," Dean said with a glance in the rear-view mirror to me, "his name was Sammy?"

I nodded. Dean and Sam exchanged a worried look as we pulled up to the motel.

Dean stormed towards the room as soon as we parked.

I held Sam back by his arm, throwing a look towards Dean's distant form. I kept my voice low, just in case. "The kid got a message from whoever kidnapped him."

Sam's eyes sparked with worry. "What?"

"The kidnapper-arsonist-guy said that it was all for Dean." I looked up at my twin with worry. "I… I don't know if we should tell Dean or if—"

"Tell Dean what?"

We turned sharply to see Dean looking at us with a scowl. He crossed his arms as he stood in the motel room doorway.

"Dean," Sam started, "there's—"

Dean pointed him down. "You're about to bullshit me, so I'll stop you right there." He turned his sights on me. "What is it?"

 _Ugh. I can never lie to him._ "The kidnapper gave us a message through the kid."

"And?"

I swallowed, knowing how crazy this would make my martyr of a brother. "He said it was all for you, Dean."

He didn't physically react; he remained motionless in that doorway. And if I hadn't spent my life studying the mannerisms of Dean Winchester, I would have never noticed the instantaneous storm of self-loathing that churned behind Dean's eyes.

"Dean," Sam went to placate him.

Dean shrugged away from the door and went into the room. Sam and I exchanged a look before reluctantly following him in. Dean was grabbing clothes off the floor and stuffing them into our bags. He barely glanced up at us before commanding, "Grab your crap. We're heading out in five."

"Dean, wait a second," Sam said. I sat on the motel bed and pulled off my slightly melted shoes with a grimace.

"We're leaving, Sam." Dean looked at him and used his no-arguments tone.

"We can't just pack up and ditch this behind us, Dean!" he shot back.

"We are being _targeted_ , Sammy!" Dean glared at him in disbelief. "We sure as hell are getting out of the line of fire!"

Sam pointed at the floor. "We have a lead here. If we run now, we'll be looking over our shoulders for God knows how long."

"I know," Dean said, going back into the bathroom to grab our stuff. "Which is why I'm getting you and Katie out of here before investigating this."

I scoffed. "You are not ditching us for a martyr mission, Dean."

"Watch me." My ass of a brother tossed one of my t-shirts at my face. Grumbling, I tugged off my singed tank-top and pulled the shirt on.

"Well, I'm not leaving." Sam crossed his arms and became rooted. "We have leads here, and I'm going to follow them."

Angrily, both brothers looked to me for my stance.

I shrugged and dragged a pair of jeans out of my bag. "I agree with Sam. Especially if Dean thinks he's coming back here solo." I pulled my shorts off and the jeans on.

Dean threw up his hand. "Great. My siblings are freaking giant targets, and they're just freaking OK with it." He shoved out of the room and started throwing everything in the bathroom into a bag.

"Dean," Sam tried again. We looked to each other with dread.

"Pack up!" Dean barked. "We might be staying in this town, but we are not staying in the same damn motel."

 **Thank you so much for your continued support of this story! Please let me know what you think so far!**


	4. Interactions of the Strange Kind

**_Chapter 4: Interactions of the Strange Kind_**

The morning came way too early for my liking. We'd been up late, trying to find an apartment that would let us immediately rent month-to-month. We'd found one in the run-down part of town, and it had a couple of mattresses in the single room, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. It was basically a long-term motel for us.

But _good God,_ we'd been up so late getting bed, bathroom, and kitchen supplies; why did we need to be making _sounds_ so early? I groaned and rolled over in bed when frequent clanging and sizzling didn't stop.

"Mornin'!" Dean greeted me cheerily.

I peeled my eyes open to see him grinning and cooking in the kitchenette. _What the hell?_ I fumbled for my phone on the floor and clicked a button for the time: 6:15. "Dean. What the hell."

"Couldn't sleep," Dean declared, slightly bashful. Smiling, he flipped a pancake with a fork.

 _Dean was cheerily making pancakes at six in the morning? What alternate universe had I just stepped into?_

I looked over at Sam; he was still snoring on the other bed. I threw a pillow at him, and he jolted awake. He gave me an insulted, questioning look, and I gave him a meaningful point towards the kitchen area.

Sam turned and took a moment to take in the sight. "Uh, Dean?"

"Mornin', Sammy!" Dean smiled cheerily at him and flipped a pancake onto a paper plate. He plopped a circle of batter onto the pan and probed it with an enthusiastic fork.

Sam looked back to me for answers, and I held up my hands in defense. "Hey, if whatever is happening in Dean's head gets us pancakes, I say we don't question it."

"Flapjacks are up!" Dean tossed one into the air and let it sizzle on the pan. He pointed at the towering plate of pancakes and grinned. "Come get 'em!"

Tentatively, Sam and I walked into the kitchen area and took seats at the stools. Paper plates and plastic silverware were already laid out for us. This was really freaking weird, but I was going to make the most of it. I plopped two pancakes onto my plate and snatched up the maple syrup.

"Dean, are you… feeling OK?" Sam asked. He was still staring at our brother, not concerned about the food.

"Never better." Dean grinned. He caught sight of me drenching the flapjacks in syrup and reached over to take it away. "Eeeeeasy there, tiger. Can't have you dropping into a sugar coma at six in the morning." He frowned slightly and slid the bottle away from me.

"I wouldn't mind." I shrugged and stabbed at the sugar-soaked pancakes greedily.

"Eat up, Sammy!" Dean encouraged as he shoved a flapjack into his own mouth. "We got a big day ahead of us."

Sam tentatively added a pancake to his plate, and I asked around a cake, "What's happening today?"

"Relaxation." Dean stretched his hands across the air, saying the word in a dreamy voice.

I scrunched my face at him while Sam asked, "What happened to finding out who's targeting us?"

Dean waved it off and went after another pancake. "I figured that could wait since we've really got nothin' to go on anyways."

 _Uh…_ "Dean—"

"Maybe we could head to a lake?" Dean suggested, raising his eyebrows in excitement. "Go fishing and bask in the God-given sun?" He pointed at Sam with a pancake. "You were the number one catcher last time we went, remember?" He shoved the pancake into his endless pit of a mouth.

"Yeah, I guess," Sam said, still confused and slowly eating his first pancake. "But I don't think we should really be dropping—"

"We're not dropping anything," Dean assured him. "I think we should just have a day off from all the crazy before delving right in. We came here for a little vacation, didn't we?"

Personally, I wanted to find out who was after us as much as Sam did. But, considering I had just escaped death by fire last night, I wouldn't mind a little day of R-and-R before we revived the research. I shrugged. "I wouldn't mind fish for dinner."

"That's what I'm talkin' about," Dean praised me with a smile. A timer beeped, and Dean ducked a few feet away to check on something in the oven.

With a furrowed brow, Sam leaned towards me and softly demanded, "What are you doing?"

I stared up at him. "Sam, we can spend one day of our vacation actually vacationing."

"Someone is trying to kill us, Kate. I don't think this is a good time for _fishing_."

I rolled my eyes. "I know. But, honestly? Look how happy our brother is. We can let him have a day." We both looked over at our brother tending to the oven and humming ACDC.

Sam huffed a breath of defeat. "Fine. But tomorrow, we get to the bottom of this."

"I agree."

"Who wants bacon?" Dean called, happily pulling a sheet of bacon out of the oven.

I gave Sam a superior look. This whole Dean's-on-ecstasy thing was benefiting everybody.

* * *

We had just hit up a roadside tackle shop when my phone started ringing.

"Um… Tammy?" A woman asked when I picked up. "Tammy Yorke…?"

"Speaking," I confirmed my working name.

"This is Caroline from yesterday at the store," she said. "I know that you might not have really meant it when you said that I could call, but I just—"

"It's fine, Caroline," I assured her. My brothers indicated for me to get back into the Impala, but I held up a one-minute finger and turned away. "What's up?"

"I just… I was wondering if you could maybe give me some pointers."

 _OK, today is just chock-full of wacky._ "On what?"

"H-how to… gain confidence, I suppose," she said softly.

"Um, OK, I guess," I said. This was weird, and her appearance coincided with some weird crap, but Caroline seemed relatively harmless.

She breathed out a faint sigh of relief. "If, if you could come over, I could give you money, and—"

"That's not necessary, Caroline." The poor woman was just wanting to hold her own. I could relate. "When are you free?"

"Well, as soon as you can, preferably."

I glanced over at my impatient brothers and debated. "I'll be by within the hour. Text me your address." She thanked me profusely as I signed off on the call and snapped the phone shut.

"Who was that?" Sam inquired as I walked up to the car.

I ran a hand through my hair. "Some sad woman that I met yesterday. I told her I would help her out with some stuff, so I'm going to have to bail on family-bonding today." I grimaced meekly. "Sorry."

" _What?!_ " Dean jumped out of the driver's seat and stood to look at me.

I shrugged apologetically. "Could you drop me off at her house? I'll join you guys when I can."

Dean scoffed. "No way!"

I gave him a weird look. "Look, I'm sorry I'm gonna miss out on fishing, but I suck at it anyways. This thing with Caroline really shouldn't take that long."

"What does she need?" Sam asked casually.

I shrugged again. "I think she's having a hard time socially, and I think just needs somebody to talk to, honestly."

"That's really nice of you," Sam said at the same time Dean ground out, "Absolutely not!"

Sam and I turned to our brother. "Dean, what's up with you?"

Dean dramatically waved in my direction. "You don't even know this chick! She could be the hex-bag bitch for all we know!"

I rolled my eyes. "I really don't think Caroline Jenkins is capable of anything heinous, Dean."

"You don't know her!"

"Text us with regular updates," Sam accommodated, sliding into the passenger's seat.

Dean gaped in disbelief. "You think she can just go? No! I'm not taking you to—"

"For God's sake!" I shot back. "I'll just borrow someone's car!" Annoyed, I stomped off towards a parking lot littered with cars.

"Kate!" I ignored Dean. "Kate, come on!" He caught up to me, and I whirled around.

"I'll meet up with you guys later," I snapped with a glare.

"No, I'm sorry." Dean ran a hand down his face. "I'm sorry, OK? I just worry about you. I'll take you to see this freaking witch if you're that hell-bent on going, alright?"

I grudgingly followed him back to the car and protested, "She's not a witch." I buckled myself into the backseat.

"Yeah, whatever," Dean said, looking back to me in the rear-view mirror. "Just spout me an address."

* * *

When my brothers had dropped me off at Caroline's house (and by house, I definitely meant three-story, gigantic, one-hell-of-a mansion), Dean had made me promise to text in with regular updates. I had to literally walk away from his pleas so I could go and ring the doorbell.

"Oh, you're here!" Caroline was pleasantly surprised when she opened the door for me. _Does she really have that little confidence in others' follow-through?_

"Woman of my word." I grinned and followed her into the marble-floored entryway.

"Sorry, I haven't dusted in a while," she said, waving nervously around the space.

"Believe me, this is a lot nicer than I'm used to," I assured her. From crappy motels to the backseat of old cars, this home was a dream.

She smiled and led me to sit down on a cream-colored couch in a sitting room.

"Caroline, I'll be honest," I said, "I don't know exactly what you want me to do for you."

She touched her hair timidly. "I, I just admired you yesterday. And, I'll be truthful—I haven't had someone over in a fairly long time. I suppose I just wanted some human interaction."

 _Wow. You flip one brother the bird, and you suddenly have a fan club._ "Caroline, I'm flattered. But, I don't think—"

"Do you want some coffee?" she interrupted me, jumping up and heading into the other room.

I sighed and rubbed my face. _Whatever. I could be a friend. I could be a kind, female shoulder to lean on._

My phone buzzed with a text from Dean: _whats happening_

I rolled my eyes and replied back. _I'm making friends. We're about to braid each other's hair, so I need you to go away._

His reply took a bit. _funny. keep me posted_

Caroline came back into the room, carrying a tea tray with all the fixings. The ceramic dishes rattled as her hands shook slightly. She placed it on the coffee table in between us and smiled at me.

"Thanks," I said. I grabbed a cup and dumped cream and sugar in a cup of coffee until it was about to overfill. I gave a polite smile to Caroline's stare and stirred the sugar-infused concoction. I took a delicious sip. _Mmm. You can taste the diabetes._

Caroline lazily stirred her coffee and thoughtfully stared at the plush carpet. "Tammy, I just want to be as strong as you. But I don't know how."

I bit the inside of my lip. This was weird. How do you coach someone to do what you were inherently doing? "Um… Well, I guess you could start by looking at end goals. What do you want out of life?"

Caroline's gaze snapped up to me nervously. "I feel a little… stifled, I suppose. I'm not certain that—"

My phone's ringing cut her off. Giving her an apologetic smile, I excused myself to the other room to answer Sam's call. "I know you said frequent updates, but I texted Dean maybe three minutes ago."

Sam gave an annoyed huff. "Yeah, I know. But Dean is insisting on driving _and_ texting to check up on you. I offered to call so he would stop putting our lives at risk."

I heard a distant "Put her on speaker!"

"Hold on," Sam said as he fiddled with the phone.

"Katie?" Dean asked, worry smothering his tone.

"What, Dean?" I snapped. _Why did he never believe that I could handle myself? I'd made it this far, hadn't I?_

"Woah, no need for the teenage angst," he reprimanded innocently. "How're things with the witch?"

"They're fine. Just like I said they were three minutes ago."

"Look, I wanted to keep the check-ins on the down-low with a text, but Sammy here insisted we call you," Dean said.

"You were going to kill us!" Sam protested.

"Alright, I'm fine, and I'm going to remain fine unless I tell you otherwise." A resounding crash happened in the other room, drawing my attention away.

" _What was that?_ " Dean demanded.

I peeked into the other room as Dean repeated my name anxiously.

"Calm down," I murmured back as I watched Caroline on her knees, picking up shattered ceramic. "Caroline dropped a tray of mugs."

"Oh."

"Look, I'll call you guys when I'm done here," I said.

"You said you'd check in with frequent updates!" Dean griped.

 _Oh, please._ "Dean, I think we're out of the woods on this one. I'll call you guys later." I snapped the phone shut before he could object further.

I hurried into the sitting room to help Caroline pick pieces of ceramic out of the coffee-soaked carpet.

"Sorry," she apologized instantly. "I, I dropped the tray." I noticed her hands shook as she gathered the last pieces of ceramic.

"It's OK," I assured her. "Do you have carpet cleaner? I've been known to be capable of getting out some gnarly stains in my day." They may have been blood stains, but they were stains, nonetheless.

She smiled gratefully and directed me to underneath her bathroom sink for the chemical and rags.

After scrubbing the stains away and cleaning up the pieces, Caroline became an apologizing, grateful mess.

 _This poor woman is a frazzled disaster. She needs a distraction._ "Caroline, what are your favorite hobbies?"

She looked taken aback. "I don't really have any hobbies anymore."

She didn't seem the sporty type. Artsy? "Do you like writing?"

She scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Not unless I have to."

"What about painting?"

She thought about it. "I think we still keep some paints up in the attic."

I helped her locate the acrylic paints, some available canvases, brushes, and aprons.

My phone buzzed with a text from Dean: _u ok_

 _Yes_ , I responded and put the phone away.

"I used to be really good at this," Caroline admitted bashfully as she swept her blue brush over the canvas. "A few of the paintings in the house are my pieces." She motioned around the room.

Landscapes and still-life portraits were on the walls. _Wow. She's really talented._ I tossed some black paint onto my canvas and squinted at it. "I've always been a Pollock-impersonator, myself."

She grinned.

I glanced around as I painted. Caroline seriously knew what she was doing. Among the paintings were photographed portraits of Caroline and a man her age, mid-forties. With a glance at her, I noticed she wore a gold wedding band. I pointed towards the pictures with my brush. "You guys are a good couple."

Caroline blinked up in surprise and looked where I was pointing. She relaxed slightly and nodded. "Yes, that's my husband Gregory. He… passed unexpectedly last year."

 _Yikes._ I gave her a sympathetic look as we went back to our paintings. "I'm sorry."

Her lips pressed tightly together, and she gave an accepting nod. _Poor woman. She was all alone and afraid of the world._

My phone vibrated again with another Dean text: _when u done_

Ugh, why was he being so smothering today? _Soonish._

We were able to paint for about ten more minutes before my phone buzzed again. I decided to ignore it. Ten more minutes passed in small talk and painting, and my phone buzzed again. And again.

 _For God's sake—whatever. I'm done with painting anyways._ Splattered colors covered my canvas because, let's face it, I couldn't imitate life with a brush if the world depended on it.

"Well, I'm gonna call it," I announced, putting down my brush and tugging off my apron. "I need to head back to my brothers."

Caroline's calm face became startled. "Oh."

I looked over at her partially done landscape piece and complimented it. It was seriously good.

My phone buzzed again as I asked Caroline if she could give me a ride to the nearby lake.

"Oh, the one off the interstate?" she probed anxiously. I nodded. "I… I don't think I can. I, um, had that scare there last week, and I just…"

I assured her that it was fine and that I could call my brother to swing by.

"Take one of the cars!" she insisted. "I have a few, so it would be no trouble."

I squinted at her in confusion. _She wanted me to… take a car?_ "What?"

She smiled at me. "I insist. And you can bring it back the next time I see you."

 _This is weird. This is slightly creepy. But, free car._ I accepted gratefully, bid her adieu, and hit the road.

"What?" I demanded after dialing Dean back.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded impatiently.

 _Oh. My. God._ "You know where the hell I've been! God, put Sam on the line."

"When are you coming here?"

"Let me talk to Sam."

" _Kate._ "

 _What the hell is with him?!_ "Now! I'm heading there as we speak! Put Sam on the phone!"

He grumbled an acceptance, and Sam came onto the line.

"What is wrong with Dean?" I demanded.

Sam huffed an annoyed sigh. "I have no idea. He's been like this ever since we dropped you off."

 _God, poor Sam._ "You're a saint. I'm almost there."

"Caroline gave you a ride?"

"Er, not exactly…" I said. "I'll explain when I get there."

When I pulled into the lake's parking lot in a cream, 1953 Cadillac Coupe de Ville, my brothers stared at me in awe.

"I know," I confirmed their thoughts. "Caroline let me borrow it."

Dean booked it towards me, and I could see tension melting out of him. He grabbed me in a brief hug before inspecting the car greedily.

Sam strolled up, eyeing the car incredulously. "She just let you… _borrow_ it?"

I waved towards it with a shake of my head. "You give and you get, I guess. Karma and all that."

Sam raised his eyebrows as Dean moved around the car with a worshiping adoration.

"He's seriously been weird all day?" I asked quietly.

Sam gave a disbelieving shake of his head. "Ever since we woke up. He's been insanely antsy the whole time you were at Caroline's. Speaking of, what happened there that you can start borrowing classic Cadillacs now?"

I shrugged. "She's lonely. She just needed a friend, I guess. I'm thinking that this car is some kind of insurance to keep that friendship."

Sam scoffed. "Wish I had friends like that."

"Too bad no one likes you," I told him with a sympathetic grin. He glared at me, and I hurried towards where my brothers had their fishing stuff set up. "Dean! Are we fishing or what?!"

Dean looked up dreamily from the car to me. "This is a '53 Cadillac!"

Sam and I rolled our eyes and gave him a moment alone with the automobile.


	5. Fratricide Is Lookin' Pretty Good

**Hello! I'll be out of town tomorrow, so it's double chapter day! Wooh!**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews and responses-I greatly look forward to read them!**

 ** _Chapter 5: Fratricide Is Lookin' Pretty Good Right About Now_**

After an afternoon of fishing and an evening of cooking up our catches, the three of us settled into the couch of our motel room to watch some trash TV. I was leaning back against Dean and had my knees resting against Sam's side. Dean kept his arm across the back of the couch while Sam's elbow rested on my knees.

"As interesting as this rich family is," Sam said after ten minutes of watching, "I think I'm going to try looking into the case."

"But, our vacation isn't over!" Dean protested as Sam started pushing himself off the couch.

Sam gave him a dubious look. "I think it would be smart if we had something to go on tomorrow. Right now, we've got nothing."

"It can wait 'til tomorrow, Sammy," Dean pressed. "Just relax and enjoy your last few hours of freedom."

With a huff, Sam complied.

As we watched bratty sisters bitch at each other, I decided a beer would be nice right about now. I got up from the couch.

"Where you going?" Dean asked, going into alert mode.

I rolled my eyes and playfully swatted his head. "The kitchen, _Dad_." I walked around the couch and to the fridge. _Where the hell was the beer?_ The fridge was pretty bare, but I crouched and nudged stuff around to find the alcohol. No dice.

"Did you two seriously drink all the beer when I was at Caroline's?" I asked in disbelief.

Dean let out a belch and claimed, "Guilty as charged."

I looked at my nonchalant brothers in disbelief. "You drove back here, Dean!"

"What?" he defended. "I only had two. That's like half a can to your low tolerance."

 _Ugh._ I jerked my jacket off of a chair and picked up the keys to the Cadillac.

"Where you going?" Dean asked, hawking in on me.

I raised the keys in annoyance as I backed my way towards the door. "Going to get more beer."

His brow furrowed. "Oh, come on. You can go without beer for one freakin' night."

"Can," I agreed with a shrug, "but don't want to." I opened up the door.

"Fine!" Dean burst, getting up from the couch. He smacked off the TV and nudged Sam. "Move it."

Sam looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"We're going to the stupid store so our alcoholic sister can get her fix," Dean said.

I squinted at my oldest brother. "I think I can handle a solo trip to the minimart, Dean."

"Like you can handle going for a run?" Dean shook his head. "No. We ain't splitting up with this psycho on the loose."

"You go with her," Sam said, spreading his long legs down the couch. "I won't even move from this spot."

"What part of 'psycho targeting my siblings' don't you get?" Dean demanded. "We aren't splitting up."

I groaned. "I'll be in the Cadillac." I started walking out the door, and Dean's insistence that Sam move faster intensified.

They were out in the car within the next minute, and I sped us over to the store.

We each set off as soon as we pulled up: I went for the beer, Sam was looking at some newspapers, and Dean was browsing the pies.

After plucking up a case of the cheap stuff, I joined Sam. "Anything worthwhile?"

Sam picked up a newspaper and narrowed his eyes at it. "There was a murder last night."

I peered around his ginormous shoulder and read: Local Teen Abducted and Disturbingly Murdered. Underneath it was a headline about the abandoned buildings fire. "Wow. This town is seeing more action in one day than they have in decades."

"Yeah, and get this," Sam pointed to a picture concerning the murdered teenage girl, "she was found in an abandoned building a couple of blocks from where the fire was."

"How'd she die?"

"Heart failure," Sam read. "But she was seventeen; they don't think it happened naturally."

I squinted at the article. "Why was it a disturbing murder, then?"

"She had weird cuts all over her body." Sam scanned the page. "Apparently, they were satanic symbols carved into her skin." He looked down at me with a knowing look.

"Somebody lose their dog Fido?" Dean asked around a mouthful of pie, walking up and nodding towards the newspaper.

"Sounds like we got a rogue witch," Sam summarized, pushing the paper towards our brother. Dean lowered his hand with the pie and took the paper. "A local teenage girl was abducted last night, and she was found murdered this morning. Something stopped her heart after carving satanic markings all over her body."

Dean gave us a disturbed look before looking back to the paper. "She was found near where the fire was."

"We've had a hex bag to make Sam and I fight, a kid kidnapped to lure me to a fire, and now a teenager gets permanent Satan stars?" I shook my head. "They don't exactly line up."

"We need that coroner's report," Sam said, walking towards the cash register to pay for the newspaper. I slid the beer onto the counter while Dean tossed a few slices of pie on, one pretty much totally eaten.

"Fine," Dean grumbled, "we'll go check it out tomorrow."

"You're not supposed to eat the food before you pay," the older cashier chastised Dean.

He gave him the stink eye and threw a twenty onto the pile of goods. "I'm diabetic; I needed sugar pronto or I'd end up a gasping fish on your unpolished floor."

I rolled my eyes while the chastened cashier worked on getting us our change.

* * *

OK. I honestly thought waking up yesterday was weird. But waking up the following day was even weirder.

I peeled my eyes open to see Dean quietly bustling around the kitchenette. He was mixing something in a bowl.

I pushed myself out of bed and took in the sight of my eldest brother: he had bread ready to be pressed into a toaster ( _since when did we have a toaster?_ ), three table settings out, jams and juices on the counter, and he was whisking eggs in a bowl. Again, this was in no way unwelcome, but _what the hell?_

"Katie!" Dean cheered, seeing me standing in disbelief. "How'd you sleep?"

"Um…" I glanced over to Sam's bed; he was somewhere under that pile of comforter and pillows. "Fine, I guess. What's up with you?"

"I'm great!" Dean announced, pouring the eggs into a skillet.

"I'm gonna wake up Sam," I said, moving towards his bed.

"No, no!" Dean shooed me. "Let him sleep. We work each other too damn hard."

I side-eyed Sam's lump while keeping my sights on Dean. "Alright…"

"What do you want on your toast?" Dean asked while pressing the toast lever down.

"Chocolate sauce," I said, moving to a stool at the counter.

"Ha-ha." Dean gave me a knowing smile as he stirred the pan of eggs. I'd been serious, but whatever.

"Uh, Nutella?" I asked hopefully.

"We've got grape jam," he announced, holding up a jar of purple, "and margarine." He nodded towards a small tub of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. Honestly, I couldn't believe it wasn't butter either.

I frowned. "Margarine, I guess. But I can do that, Dean."

"I've got it," he said as he waved me off. He stirred the eggs, and the toast popped up.

 _Domestic Dean. What was with him lately? Since when did Dean care if Sam slept long enough? And when the hell did Dean start buying margarine? Or offer to make me toast, for that matter?_

"Breakfast au dejour…" Dean scrunched his face in confusion as he pushed a plate of toast and eggs in front of me. "Or whatever the crap those French people say."

I took my plate, and my eager hunger dropped. "Dean?"

"Hmm?" He happily poured me a tall glass of orange juice.

"What the hell is this?" I pointed at the white eggs on my plate.

"Egg whites!" He grinned and pushed the orange juice closer to me. "They're way better for you than regular eggs. Well, that's what Sammy says."

"And this?" I held up my margarined, jammed toast with sinking hope.

"Whole wheat toast." He went back to cooking more healthy food.

"Why has our breakfast been hijacked by Sam?!" I looked in despair at my food.

"I'm just lookin' out for you, kid," Dean assured me as he whipped up more egg whites.

 _UGH. It's too early for this shit. I need caffeine, not orange juice._ I moved away from my food and searched the kitchenette for the coffee beans.

"Your food's gonna get cold," Dean informed me.

"Where's the coffee?" I grumbled, peering into a mostly-bare cupboard.

"I threw it out," he said.

I whipped around and stared at him in horror. _Dean did WHAT?_ "WHY?!" _And how in the hell is he this awake without a caffeine fix?!_

"That much sugar and caffeine is gonna kill you, Katie," he said with a dismissive wave. "Hand me that spatula, will you?"

In shock, I handed over the spatula so he could cook his egg whites.

The front door opened, and Sam walked in.

"Sam?" I glanced towards his bed. It must've been empty.

"Hey," Sam greeted. He closed the door and headed towards us with a confused look to all the food.

" _Where the hell have you been?_ " Dean demanded, his expression transforming into some mixture of panic, frustration, and worry.

Judging by the suit Sam was currently sporting, I'd wager…

"Interviewing the coroner," my twin confirmed my thoughts. He glanced to me for an explanation to what was happening with Dean, and I gave him my best I-have-no-damn-clue face.

Dean spluttered. "And you didn't think to tell us?"

Sam gave him a confused look. "You guys were asleep; I could handle it."

Dean threw up his hands in frustration. "Great! This witchy lunatic is on the hunt, and you decide to go all self-sacrificing on us!"

 _What the hell?_ "Dean," I said, "it's not that big of a deal."

Dean heaved a breath and pointed a trembling finger towards Sam's empty bed. "I thought he was _asleep_!"

Sam placed his palms on the counter and looked our brother in the eyes. "OK, what the hell is with you?"

Dean was instantly defensive, but I saw the way his eyes tinged with guilt. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're freaking out over the fact that I stepped out for an hour!"

"What? I can't care about my brother?" Dean scrunched up his face in accusation. "When there's a psycho on the loose?"

"You've been on the fritz for two days, man!" Sam protested.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I have not—"

" _In what world does Dean Winchester cook whole-wheat toast and egg whites?_ " I demanded. I mean, my worry was aimed at my brother. _But why did my meals have to suffer?_

He looked a little guilty at that one. "Well, I wouldn't have to parent your ass if you didn't down sugar like it was the freakin' apocalypse."

I gave him the stink eye. I knew my sugar intake was a little higher than the average person's, but that didn't mean I was about to make any life changes. "Whatever. You two can bond over your love of all things healthy; I'm going to the store to score some donuts." I grabbed my jacket, not caring that I was still in pajama shorts and a tank-top.

" _NO!_ "

Sam and I froze, staring at our panting older brother. His fists were balled, and he stared at the counter as he tried to calm himself down. Sam and I exchanged a worried look.

"I… I'm freaking out," Dean admitted reluctantly. He looked up at us with utterly exposed eyes. "I'm so damn afraid that you two are going to go out there, and that witch is going to show up, and-and I'll never see you again. I just…" He huffed out a deep breath. "I can't do it."

I could understand worry. I could understand Dean's over-the-top version of worry. But this was beyond that. "Dean, this is more than that. You wouldn't—"

"I know!" Dean exploded, pushing away from the counter. "I think someone fucking voodoo cursed me or something, because every damn minute makes it harder and harder to focus on anything other than keeping you two safe. I've been tried to push it off, but I just can't do it." He slumped back down onto his elbows, leaning on the counter. He looked to us with pleading eyes.

"Dean, nothing's going to happen to us," Sam said kindly with his Pleading Eyes.

"You know that we've been trained against dangerous crap our entire lives," I reasoned. "If there's anything out there after us, we can handle it."

Dean rubbed a hand down his face and thought about that. "I can't lose you guys. Sam, you've died more times than I can count. And Katie, the last time we faced a witch—"

" _I know,_ " I cut him off sharply. No need to explicitly state the PTSD that was sure to soon resurface.

Sam leaned on the counter. "Dean, what witch would have it out for you?"

"I don't know." Dean rubbed his face again.

"Well," I recapped, "this one has tried to hex Sam and me, tried to offer my burned corpse as a present to you, and now they've cursed you with, apparently, extreme anxiety—"

"Yeah, they hate me, and they're using you," Dean snapped. "I got it."

"There has to be some—" Sam tried.

" _I don't know!_ " Dean shoved off the counter and paced around the kitchenette. Smoke began clogging the room, making Dean spit a curse and rush towards the burned eggs.

 _Ugh, why are our lives always such freaking messes?_ I kneaded my temples with my knuckles while Sam and Dean tended to the disaster that was breakfast. _How are we supposed to find a witch that none of us knew existed? The only living witches that I know of—_

"Dean, is there a possibility that Kevin could be doing this?" I suggested. I didn't think he would; he saved me and wanted to make a new start for himself with that coven in the east. But when I couldn't find him, I kind of forgot about him.

"What?" Dean asked, distracted by the food mess. "I don't think a nerd prophet has it out for me, Kate."

"Kevin the witch. Wizard. Whatever a guy witch is," I clarified. "We haven't seen him in a year, and maybe—"

"It ain't him."

 _What?_ "Why not?"

Dean turned on me, confidence in his voice. "Because that kid is incapable of pulling something like this off. Even if he somehow was able to come after us, why would he? You were nice to him in the end, right?"

Well, the last time I seen him, I had smacked him in the head with a crowbar. But, I guessed "nice" was relative.

 _OK, so back to no leads then._ I turned to Sam, remembering that he'd been out working this morning. "What happened with the coroner?"

He threw a dish rag on the counter and turned to me. "Not much, but the body pretty much confirmed that a witch was involved—the satanic stars and Old English designs could've been used for some hexes or spells."

"You know witchy spell designs?" Dean raised an eyebrow at our brother.

"Well, when this happened with Kate, I kind of read up on all things witches."

"They didn't do this to curse people last time," I pointed out.

"It's some type of blood magic," Sam explained. "Darker than last time. And, I guess we confirmed the target." He looked over to Dean, and I followed his gaze.

"Oh, come on," Dean protested. "I'm worried about my siblings. I don't think a _murder_ needs to cause that."

Sam shook his head. "Blood magic just makes a witch's magic more powerful. And your curse is getting progressively worse, Dean."

I glanced at the healthy breakfast and nodded. Yesterday, I was allowed to have syrup on pancakes.

"Well, let's gank a witch, then!" Dean said.

Sam's phone rang, and he moved away to take the call.

"Going off of what lead, Dean?" I challenged. The hex bag only had one witness, and that bartender gave us all she had. But that little boy from the fire—he had seen the witch. Sammy had said that the kidnapper had hurt him… Did he mean through dark magic?

"That was the coroner," Sam announced, coming back towards us. "There was another murder in the same area that the last girl was found in."

"Does she have the same designs in her skin?" Dean asked gruffly.

Sam nodded. "Both girls were snatched after walking home from their nightly prayer group."

"The same group?" I asked.

"It's a prayer-support group for women whose husbands died prematurely," Sam said. "The witch must've been watching them."

"Let's go see what the coroner can tell us," Dean said, moving for his bag with his suit.

"You guys go," I said, going for my jeans and t-shirt. "I'm going to go talk to that little boy from the fire."

As Dean's head snapped up, Sam looked to me curiously. "Why?"

"He's the only one who saw the witch and lived," I said. "He might be able to tell us something useful."

"We'll go with you," Dean declared.

I resisted rolling my eyes. "Dean, it'll—"

"We're going with you," Dean repeated sternly, "and then we'll all go to the coroner's office together."

I grudgingly pulled on my pencil skirt and white blouse because my brother had to keep me in his paranoid sight at all times.

 _Oh please, God, let this curse end quickly._


	6. Meetings in the Dark

**_Chapter 6: Meetings in the Dark_**

"Hey, Sammy," I greeted, walking up to the boy on the front lawn. He was squatted in the grass, playing with some toy trucks. No one else was around. _Well, except for my insane brothers who are parked directly across the street._

"Kate!" The little boy looked up at me with a relieved smile.

"How are you, kiddo?" I asked and smiled back. I squatted next to him.

"I'm OK," he said, looking back at his trucks. "My mom is kind of crazy after that fire, though."

"My brother is too," I assured him. "Is she checking up on you all the time now?"

"Yeah!"

I laughed lightly at his annoyed enthusiasm. "That means that she loves you. At least, that's what my big brothers tell me."

He nodded thoughtfully and rolled a truck over the bushy grass.

"So, Superman Sam," I said, pulling out a pen and a notepad, "do you think I could get your autograph? My friends still don't believe that I met you."

Smiling bashfully, Sammy took the pen and paper and clumsily scrawled his name.

"Thanks," I said when he handed it back. "Hey, I was thinking about that night. Do you remember anything about that man who took you? Like what he looked like or sounded like?"

Sammy shook his head and pushed his truck. "He was a man, and he had a bag over his head."

I nodded. "Did he say anything else to you? Besides that it was for Dean?"

Sammy frowned. "He told me to scream as loud as I could."

My heart clenched. "One last thing, Sammy—when he hurt you, how did he hurt you?"

Sammy hesitated.

I leaned forwards and whispered, "It's OK, Sammy; I was there. I'll believe you."

"My mommy said that I wasn't really remembering right," he said softly.

"Did he have special powers, Sammy?" I prompted.

With wide eyes, Sammy nodded. "He had his arm towards me, and everything hurt."

I nodded, looked him in the eyes, and promised, "I know you're telling the truth. Other people can't imagine what you went through, Sammy, so they might say that that part wasn't real. But I believe you, OK?"

With a sad smile, Sammy nodded.

I looked back to the idling Impala and told him, "My brothers are waiting for me. But thank you for telling me what happened, Sammy." I gave him a parting smile and pointed to his trucks. "That's the coolest collection I've ever seen."

He smiled proudly while I went back to the car.

"So?" Dean prompted.

"A witch was behind the fire," I confirmed. "Sammy said that the witch was a man who wore a bag over his head."

"Great." Dean grumpily pulled the car back onto the road and headed for the coroner's office.

"No, this is good," Sam said. "This means that there's only one party behind these attacks."

"That's true," I admitted. "If there'd—"

Dean cranked up ACDC, drowning us out.

* * *

The coroner didn't give us much more than he'd already said. Both women were middle-aged, both were in the same prayer group, both had satanic markings carved into their flesh, and both bled out of their slit wrists until they died.

So now we were executing the only plan we had.

"I'm just saying that I could slap on a wig and act like a chick from _Desperate Housewives_ , if need be," Dean offered as we pulled up to the church that night. His hands had tightly clenched the steering wheel the entire ride over.

"Dean, I got this," I assured him as I push my open phone into my rarely-used purse. "I've got my phone in my purse on speaker, so you two bozos won't miss a thing." I smiled fondly and slapped their shoulders. "Wish me luck!"

Sam gave me a tight smile while Dean didn't move from his tense position. I rolled my eyes and stepped out of the car. In heels, a modest dress, and a wedding ring (we'd hit up a local thrift store that afternoon), I wobbled up to the front steps of the Christian church.

"Wow, she sucks at wearing heels," Dean's voice said from my purse. "It's like a newborn giraffe—"

I snatched up my phone and threatened, "Put your damn phone on mute or I'm ending this call right now."

The phone went silent, and I shoved it back into my bag before heading in.

 _Yikes._ A circle of about seven women sat in the center of the room. The pews had been pushed up against the walls.

A woman stood and greeted me with a compassionate smile. "Hello! I'm Cathy. Welcome to Sisters in Faith. Have you come for support and understanding in our Lord, as well?"

"Hi." I smiled shyly and tucked a curled chunk of hair behind my ear. "I was hoping I could join you ladies tonight? My name is—"

"Tammy!" Caroline Jenkins jumped up from one of the chairs and beamed at me. _Uh, I was going to say Martha, but this seems like a lie I'll have to stick with._

I smiled back at her. "Caroline! Hello!"

She offered me a folding chair next to her, and I had to accept it. "Wow, you never mentioned that you were a widow, too."

I gave a little shrug. "It's not something I really share."

Cathy took charge of the group by standing in the center of the circle. "Ladies, I'm so happy that you could all come out tonight so that we can worship in one another's embrace." _Oh Lord, please don't let that be a literal embrace._ "Is there anything that any of us would like to share?" _Like the fact that two of your members ended up on Satan's chopping block this week?_

A dark-haired woman shot her chubby arm into the air. "I was taking my son to school today, and I found myself really missing Carlos today when I saw all of the other dads. But, I turned to the Lord and prayed for strength, and He granted it to me." She smiled serenely, and the other women clapped. I slowly joined in.

"That's wonderful, Christiana," Cathy said soothingly.

A redhead meekly raised her hand.

"Danielle, yes." Cathy smiled down to her.

"I, um, went on a walk today," she said. "I wanted to remember Tim by the river, so I went there. And, I prayed that his spirit would be with me. I think he was." Her eyes glimmered with tears. The women all began clapping with encouraging smiles.

Look, I know that this kind of support works for some people. But, I was more of a talk-about-it-when-you-literally-have-no-other-choice kind of girl. And, I guess I couldn't really—

"Caroline," Cathy called our attentions over to the blonde at my right. "This is your first night joining us. Would you mind sharing something about yourself?" _This is Caroline's first night? What kind of a sane woman joins the prayer group that's getting systematically murdered off?_

Caroline cleared her throat. "I've had a recent religious change. And I lost my husband about a year ago now, so I figured this could be a good place for me."

Cathy smiled lovingly. "And we love having you here. Know the Lord is smiling down upon your leap of faith." Caroline smiled her acceptance, and Cathy turned to me. "And Tammy! This is also your first night. Are you here with Caroline?"

"Oh, no," I said. "We just met the other day at the store, so it's total coincidence that we're meeting again." _A little too coincidental, maybe._ "I'm Tammy, and I lost my husband Mark about two years ago in a car accident. And, I'm really very happy to be getting support from you ladies and, uh, Jesus, but I was also worrying about our… _safety._ " I widened my eyes and gave Cathy a knowing look.

Cathy's eyes became solemn. "Fear not, sister. It is a complete _tragedy_ that two of our sisters were taken from us so recently. But I assure you, that if we come together in faith, the Lord will provide us a way." And with that vague bullshit, Cathy turned back to the group.

"Let's join hands!" Cathy moved back into the circle, and everyone held out their hands to their lefts and rights. I reluctantly took Caroline's and some random woman's hands, and Cathy began to pray aloud for strength.

About ten minutes into this speech of a prayer, I pulled my hands away and mouthed to Caroline "bathroom." I hurried to the back of the church, found the bathroom, and pulled out my phone.

"Are you two getting all of this crazy?" I asked. I looked in the mirror at my fake pearl earrings and curled hair. I smoothed my button-up dress and frowned. _What about becoming a wife made it necessary to dress like this?_

"I think we got all we need," Dean's tight voice came through. "You can come back out to the Impala now."

There was a sound of a struggle, and I rolled my eyes. Eventually, Sam came to the phone. "Kate, you need to talk with some of the women. See if they knew the deceased or which way those women walked home."

"Or, just wait here with me and Sammy! That Caroline chick seems like bad news!" Dean called.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "I'll go try chatting if the Jesus séance is done." I tucked the phone back into my purse; their silence indicated they'd gone back on mute.

When I got back to the circle, the women were roaming around the room and not praying—thank God. I walked up to that Christiana lady as she got herself some lemon water.

"That must've been a real trial of faith today," I commented with a polite smile.

Christiana looked up at me and then politely smiled back. "If I've learned anything from these amazing women, it's that we can always place our trust in the Lord."

I nodded. "I'll be honest, sister, with all of the scary happenings in this town, in this _prayer group_ lately?" I shook my head and pretended to flounder for words. "It's… getting harder to rely on Him."

Christiana gave me a sympathetic look. "We will be safe if we rely on the Lord, sister."

I raised my eyebrows and whispered, "So, you think that the other two… _didn't_ put their faith in Christ?"

Christiana's eyes widened as she shook her head. "Oh, no, no. I, I just meant that even though they had this trial, they will be righted in the afterlife. They were… Sarah and Lacey were great sisters. Very devout. I would never speak ill of them." She took a sip of her water and excused herself.

 _Well, that didn't help much._ Nothing really set the two victims apart from any of these Jesus-loving chicks.

"Tammy!" Caroline walked up to me with a smile. Something about her seemed more relieved. "This was a great night tonight, wasn't it?"

I smiled tightly back and nodded. "It was super."

Caroline let out a content sigh. "I haven't been religious in such a long time. It was… kind of nice to reconnect.

"What about you?" she asked me. "Did you rekindle religion lately, too?"

I gave a noncommittal shrug. "I've been… religious my whole life. I just don't do group therapy." She nodded, and I changed the subject. "What turned your faith around?"

Caroline opened her mouth and looked to me with pleading eyes, but she stopped herself. After a minute, she lightly grabbed my arm and asked, "Tammy, can I be honest with you?"

 _Oh God, where was this going?_ "Yes, of course, Caroline. We're sisters now anyways, right?" I offered a small smile.

She somewhat returned it. "I want to talk with you openly, but I don't think it'd be good to do so here. Could you… could you come by my house tomorrow? Just for a bit?"

 _Oh God, I did not want to know where this was going._ "Yeah, OK, Caroline. I'll be there."

Caroline's shoulders sagged in relief, and she dropped her hand from my arm. "You're an angel, Tammy."

I grinned as she headed for the exit.

"Oh, ladies!" Cathy called as we began to disband. "In light of recent events, I think it would be safest if we all carpooled home. Please, do not walk down Sageway Boulevard tonight. Thank you! May God bring you a safe night!"

I headed for the exit, ready to take a little stroll down Sageway Boulevard.

* * *

" _No,_ Kate." Dean's voice had a harsh finality to it. As if that would stop me.

"We're getting to the goddamn bottom of this, Dean," I shot back through gritted teeth.

Dean turned further in the driver's seat towards me. "Kate, when I said 'no,' I didn't mean it as a suggestion. You're not doing it."

"Dean—"

"And before you ask, you're not going to Freaky Caroline's tea party tomorrow either." He turned back in his seat, as if that would cut off the conversation.

"When the hell was I going to ask?! I have a car; I don't need your PMSy permission, Dean." I slouched back against the backseat and crossed my arms.

Sam held out a placating hand towards Dean. "Dean, you know that you aren't thinking straight lately. I care about Kate just as much as you do, but I think she should do this so that we can end whatever curse is holding you by your—"

" _Hey,_ " Dean warned with a scowl.

"Besides," Sam cut back in, "you know Kate is gonna do whatever it takes to get to that road, Dean. I'd personally prefer if we could be there to keep an eye on the situation rather than have her sneaking off, wouldn't you?" _Ooh, nice one, Sammy._

Caught in a bear trap, Dean ground his teeth. Eventually, he exploded, "Fine! Fine!" He whipped on me with a pointed finger. "But if things go south, you get the hell out of there, Katelyn. Got it?"

Apparently, my disbelieving stare wasn't enough for him because he ground out another, " _Got it?_ "

"God, yes, _Dad,_ " I muttered.

Dean threw up a hand. "If I'm the parent, then you're the goddamn hormonal teenager." He cranked the key and revved up the engine. He sped out of the church parking lot and took us to Sageway Boulevard.

We pulled to a stop and looked out at the expansive, fog-riddled street.

"So, do I just walk?" I thought aloud as I pushed the car door open.

"Put your phone back on speaker call," Sam said, holding up his dialing phone. I pulled mine out and repeated the process from earlier.

With a deep breath to gear myself up, I started my "walk home" down Sageway.

I'd made it about thirty feet before I noticed the black slinking into my left-field vision. I jerked my head to the left to see the Impala creeping alongside me. Dean kept his stony gaze on the road, and Sam gave me an embarrassed smile through the passenger's window.

I planted my feet on the dirt. _No. There was no way this stupid plan was going to work if I had a freaking car rolling at the hip with me!_ The car continued to creep along, Dean oblivious to my stop. I rolled my eyes as Sam smacked his arm to get his attention.

"Why are my brothers such overprotective idiots?" I grumbled to myself.

"I've been asking myself that for a long time." A deep and gravely voice asked behind me.

I whirled around, and a man with a burlap sack over his head stood before me. He had dark holes for his eyes to look through, and the rest of his clothes were dark. He waved a hand towards me, but nothing happened. He must have seen my confusion, because he said, "All part of the show."

"Kate!" My name was muffled. I spun around to see my brothers angrily beating against the windows of the Impala. This guy's magic wave must've locked them in.

I turned back on the masked man and shoved my fear down. _This isn't like before. He has nothing to do with what happened to me a year ago. This is just some psycho with a power-fixation._ "Why are you doing this?"

His head tilted slightly, and he kept silent.

I balled my fists and curled my toes so that I wouldn't lose my edge. "Look, you can pretend you're the Scarecrow all damn night for all I care. But these murders? Those innocent women? The curse on my brother? That's gotta stop."

He tilted his head back so that he was staring at me straight-on. "I should kill you. Dean deserves it. I think you do too."

I narrowed my eyes. "And those women? They deserved it?!" I was seething, and he could tell. But I was also scared out of my freaking pants, and I think he could see that too.

"Collateral." He lazily glanced around me. "They're bound to break out of there soon enough. So, let me ask you, Kate: are you prepared to die?"

 _What the hell was this bastard's ploy?_ His stupid mind-games were pissing me off. "Absolutely. Now remove Dean's curse and fuck off."

"We've only started."

The sound of glass shattering erupted from behind me, and the psycho disappeared from the air.

"LET HIM GO!"

I whirled around to see Dean pointing his pistol at the wizard. With some dark magic, the wizard held his hand out towards Sam; Sam was suspended in the air with a bending neck.

I rushed towards them, preparing to jump this asshole. As I neared them, I heard the man say, "You'll burn them, too." I skidded to a stop as Sam fell to the dirt and the wizard disappeared from sight.

Dean shot the empty air, his expression full of fear and frustration.

I knelt in front of Sam, and he waved me off. We stood and faced our despairing brother.

"What the hell was he talking about, Dean?" I demanded. Tears creeped into my eyes as I thought of the way that psycho could have easily snapped my twin's neck.

With pursed lips, Dean shook his head, laid his gun on the roof of the car, and interlocked his hands behind his head.

"No!" I fired off. Sam tried to stop me, but I shook him off. " _No!_ We're in danger because Dean pissed someone off! So, what was it? Did you sleep with the wrong soccer mom? Piss off some douche-canoe in a bar? _What?!_ "

"I don't know!" Dean shouted back. "I don't fucking know! And, _God,_ I know I did this, OK?! I don't know why or what the hell I did, but—" He broke off and kicked the car door hard.

Subdued, Sam and I watched our brother crumble under the weight of his self-hatred and guilt. My own shame swirled in my chest as I realized the additional blame I'd piled on him.

"I'm sorry, Dean," I said softly. I swiped away a tear that rolled down my cheek. "That was… bitchy of me." Sam wrapped an extra-long arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards his side.

Dean rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "No. You were right. And, God, I am so sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Sam insisted. "We're going to figure this out. We're going to make the long, long, long, long list of people that Dean pissed off, and then we're going to get to the bottom of this. Got it?" I nodded. Sam stared at Dean. "OK?"

"Yeah." Dean leaned his elbow on the top of the car.

Sam gave a nod. "OK. Well, hopefully, we stopped a murder here tonight. So, let's head back to the apartment and figure this out." In solemn determination, Dean grabbed his gun, and we all clambered into the Impala.

 **Please let me know what you think!**


	7. The I-Hate-Dean-Winchester Fan Club

**Thank you thank you thank you for all of your kind words and support! I appreciate you all so much! :)**

 ** _Chapter 7: The I-Hate-Dean-Winchester Fan Club_**

Sam was wrong. Another murder happened that night, and it was spread all over the paper's front page: in the middle of the night, Christiana from the prayer group had her tongue cut out, was carved into with the markings of Satan, and then was left to bleed out from her wrists. Her four-year-old son was locked in a hall closet and forced to listen to the entire attack.

I could tell Dean was beating up on himself from the way he rubbed his face and looked to the local paper.

"The police are escorting the women in the group, Dean," I said, trying to give him any comfort.

He kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. "I put you in that prayer group."

I tried not to roll my eyes. "I would have gone into that group with or without you, Dean. Don't flatter yourself."

He huffed a breath and looked up as Sam stepped back into the room, done with his phone call.

"OK, the coroner confirmed all the same things," Sam said as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. "A healthy woman from the prayer group, satanic markings, bled out. But she did have a burn mark on her arm; the guy probably used a lighter on her."

I grimaced. _Poor Christiana. And her poor son._

"Great, so he's upping the torture level now?" Dean stood up so suddenly that his chair got knocked over. "I'm going to kill this son of a bitch!"

"Dean, why don't you go for a run? Burn off some of this energy, OK?" I suggested with a worried look.

Sam jumped on the bandwagon. "Yeah, Kate and I can look into some leads on who this guy could be, and you can—"

" _I can't!_ " Dean shot out, his chest heaving. "No! I can't… I can't leave you two alone, alright? Whatever the hell this curse is—it's making it harder and harder to not worry about you two constantly. I can't even walk out of the damn room without feeling like I just left you guys for the last time. So, no, I'm not gonna go for a freaking run, OK?" With a huff, he planted himself on the edge of the bed.

Sam and I shared a concerned look, but what could we do? Hunting this stupid wizard down was our only option to ending this.

"In that case, you can help us with research," I said, pulling out a notepad and a pen. I tossed them to him. "Start writing down anyone who you think still might have a grudge against you."

Dean gave me a disbelieving look. "Kid, I knock down a lot of pissed people, alright? I'm not gonna—"

"Write down something, jackass," I ordered with a glare.

With all of his eleven-year-old maturity, he wrote "GO TO HELL," wadded it up, and chucked it at my head.

I took a deep breath through my nose and turned to Sam. "I'm going to go down to the police station and see if Christiana's son gave any leads. Make sure that one does his homework." I threw another glower towards my oldest brother and headed for the door.

"Aw, come on, Katie!" Dean tried to appease me as I fished out the Cadillac keys and walked out the door. "Don't go!" I felt guilty for making Dean's curse-anxiety skyrocket, but we had a job to do, and he was an asshole.

I flipped him the finger and left for the police station.

* * *

Julio had nothing to offer. Christiana's son basically repeated all of the awful things he'd overheard the maniac say, and it was fairly repetitious and horrible.

"Like what?" Sam asked with his arms crossed across his chest as he looked down at me. I glanced at Dean for the first time since I'd walked back into the motel, and I noticed he had a faint sheen of sweat over his face.

"He told her to shut up or he'd cut out her tongue," I repeated what I'd heard from an officer. "He told her that she was doing work for the new lord. He asked her if she liked the way she could feel her flesh melting off. All pretty sick and twisted."

"And traumatizing for her son," Sam commented sadly.

I gave a nod of agreement.

"There." Dean shoved the notepad across the bed, towards me and my twin. Names were scrawled onto every line on the page. "That's all I can think of."

Sam swiped it up with an impressed look. "I'll start looking for phone numbers and addresses." He took the list to his computer as I nodded.

I turned to Dean. He was hunched over his knees, and his hands were shaking slightly. The sweat was still stuck on his skin. My earlier guilt resurfaced; I'd marched out of the room like a selfish drama queen.

Tentatively, I sat down next to him. "Hey."

He sat up and tried to play it cool. "What's up?"

I pursed my lips. "Dean, I'm sorry for storming out of here earlier. I didn't really think about how that would affect you, and that was selfish. I didn't—"

"It's not a big deal." Classic Dean tried to downplay his issues. "Don't worry about it."

I raised an eyebrow. "It's not a big deal? So, if I were to get up right now and go—"

His hand instinctively shot out and latched around my wrist. Both of us looked down at it in surprise. With trembling lips, Dean spat out, "Sorry. No. It's not a big deal because I know it didn't mean anything. But, just, uh, keep close for a little bit, OK?"

I sighed and wrapped my arms around him. "You're a sorry son of a bitch. You're going to give yourself a hernia."

"Yeah, well, small price to pay and all that." He threw me a rough grin.

Sam cleared his throat, and we looked up. "I've got some numbers. Start dialing."

I let go of my brother and pulled out my cell. "Who's gonna win 'I Hate Dean Winchester The Most?' I hope it's Sam." I waggled my eyebrows.

Both of my brothers rolled their eyes.

* * *

Turns out, "I Hate Dean Winchester The Most" was a hideously close competition.

"And if I _ever_ see him on my property again, I won't hesitate to pick up my shotgun and blow his fucking brains across my lawn, you got me?!" Curtis Hulgan shouted down the phone at me.

"Uh, yes, sir," I responded. I didn't even know what Dean had done to Curtis. I'd dialed, mentioned Dean's name, and received uncomfortably-detailed threats on Dean's life for a solid five minutes.

With a slam, Curtis ended the brutal phone call. I looked over at Dean, who held his phone a foot away from his ear with a wince.

"Well, it ain't Curtis Hulgan," I informed. "I think he would've tackled you into a stranglehold if you were ever in the same state."

Dean raised an eyebrow and snapped his phone closed. "I'm going to venture and say Sherry Collins didn't organize this; she just started scream-crying in my ear." He rubbed his ear for effect.

I squinted at my brother. "What did you do to these poor, poor people, big brother?"

He gave me an oh-please look. "Sherry was a one night stand with an every-night-after vengeance."

"And Curtis Hulgan?"

Dean grew a devious grin. "That's between me and the big man upstairs."

I shook my head. "Yeah, well, it will be if you ever run into that bastard; he actually wants to kill you."

"He's got his reasons." Dean shrugged it off and turned to Sam. "Next number, Sammy."

Sam's head rested on his hand, and he shook his head at his computer screen. "That's all I can find. The last two are unreachable."

"Thank God," I grumbled and stretched. As much as I loved Dean taking the heat of people's frustrations, I didn't want to be on the receiving end of their fire anymore.

"No, there will be no thanking God," Dean chastised me. "We've got nothing!"

I waved my hands towards the list by Sam. "We've narrowed it down to two people! And it's probably one of them, considering neither want to be traced."

Dean turned to Sam. "Who do you have?"

Sam looked down at the list. "Uh, Honey Banks?"

Dean smirked wickedly. "God, I hope she's behind this. I would love to run into her again."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Then why is she on the list?"

Dean schooled his expression to be chastised. "She wouldn't exactly love to run into me again."

I rolled my eyes. _Of course._

"And the other," Sam cut back in, "is Topher Gaines."

Dean grimaced. "God, I hope it ain't him. I really don't want to see his stuck-up ass."

Sam stood and shut his laptop. "Well, you're going to have to. We have to find him, Dean."

I groaned and gave my older twin puppy eyes. "Do we really have to meet these homicidal people in person? Do we not already do enough for this cruel world?"

Sam held up his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm not the one that pissed off half of this country." He gave Dean a look, and I added onto that with one of my own.

"Flies get bitter when you catch 'em with honey." Dean winked and laced up his boots.

I tried not to gag. "How are we going to find this Honey chick, anyways? And Topher?"

"DMV has to have 'em registered with an address," Sam said. "Put on your best cop-impersonating clothes."

* * *

We walked out of the DMV with the addresses in hand. Honey lived a couple of hours north at the border of Florida. Topher, however, lived all the way in freaking Minnesota.

"I can guess what went down between you and Honey," I said to Dean as we got back into the Impala.

"Or went _up_ between us." Dean grinned.

 _EW._ I gave him the horrified reaction that he deserved.

"Dude!" Sam protested.

" _Anyways,_ " I tried to move us out of that territory entirely, "what happened with you and this Topher guy?"

"His dad had beef with our dad," Dean explained. "When you guys were too young, I was with Dad on a hunt, and we ran into Topher and his dad. It got ugly, but we all walked out of it relatively fine."

"Relatively?" Sam pressed.

"Topher got a scratch down his face when he tried to shove me at a werewolf."

"So he's still bitter that it was him instead of you…?" I assumed.

Dean shrugged. "He may have called me a couple of months ago for help on some Wendigo case."

We knew where this was going.

"And I may have told him to go screw himself," Dean said.

 _God._ If Topher resorted to calling Dean, he must have been desperate. And if Dean responded like that… Yeah, there's a chance that Topher could be our resentful wizard. Or at least puppeteering one.

Sam sighed. "Let's go find Honey today and then head back to town. We'll have to split up tomorrow so that someone can go check out Topher."

"No." Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"Dean, he's in Minnesota," Sam explained. "There's no way—"

"We are not splitting up," Dean clarified harshly.

 _Ugh._ _Dean's paranoia is gonna make this case drag on for way longer than necessary._

My phone rang from my pocket, and I fished it out.

"Hi, Tammy," Caroline greeted in a wavering voice. "What time are you available to come by?"

"Oh crap, Caroline." I kicked myself mentally. "I completely forgot that I was supposed to come over." I cringed; this was like scheduling a play-date.

"No, no, it's fine. There's still plenty of time today."

I glanced out the window to see the town exit sign speed past. "Well, that might be a bit of a problem—I'm out of town today."

"O-oh." Her voice faltered. "I… I wanted to speak with you about something… important."

 _How am I supposed to respond to that?_ "I know, and I'm so, so sorry. Can I rain-check for tomorrow?"

She cleared her throat. "Yes, that'd be fine. I take it you won't be able to make the Sisters in Faith meeting tonight?"

"'Afraid not. But Caroline, I don't think it would be smart for you to go, OK? There's been a lot of assaults on the women of that group, so it'd probably be best if you stayed away until things settled… a bit."

Her breathing stuttered.

"Caroline…?" She had remained silent for a little too long.

"Thank you for your friendship, Tammy," she said in a tight voice. "I'll see you tomorrow." And she ended the call.

I pulled the phone away and frowned. _Well, that was weird._

"You forgot your play-date with creepy Caroline?" Dean glanced back at me through the rear-view mirror.

I stuck my tongue out at him and curled up onto the seat. "Whatever. Wake me up when we get to your hooker's house."


	8. Caroline's Got a Secret

**_Chapter 8: Caroline's Got a Secret_**

Hours later, we arrived back at our apartment. "Honey" had been a misnomer for that psycho. After hurling insults at Dean, trying to claw Dean's eyes out, and then topping it off with a fake story about a pregnancy just to scare the shit out of Dean, we came to the stunning realization that the woman was simply a resentful bitch. It had been a waste of a day, and the whole ordeal only seemed to make my oldest brother more on edge than ever.

I trudged into the apartment behind my brothers and headed towards the bathroom. "I call first shower."

"Leave the door unlocked," Dean ordered as he plopped into an armchair with his sharpening kit.

I gave him a disbelieving look. "Dream on; I don't want you or Samantha here—" I jerked my chin towards Sam. "—to barge in with a need to pee during the only time I have a bit of privacy."

Sam held up defensive hands. "Why am I being dragged into this?"

Dean ignored him as he worked on sharpening his hunting knife. "Keep it unlocked or I'll kick it down, Kate."

I gave Sam a why-is-this-happening look. Sam returned a look of mutual confusion.

"Whatever, perv," I grumbled, marching towards my suitcase for some clean pajamas.

After a good twenty minutes of quiet, hot water, I stepped out of the bathroom in pajama pants, a tank top, and wet hair. With pajamas in hand, Sam moved past me and towards a shower of his own.

"Door unlocked!" Dean reminded from the armchair.

Sam gave him a disapproving look but simply shut the door as requested.

As the water kicked on, I checked through my phone. I had two new missed calls from Caroline and one voicemail. I played it back.

 _"H-hi, Tammy. I know that I asked you to come tomorrow, and you might still be out of town, but please, if you could come by tonight… I'm sorry, I just… I, um… Could you call me back, please?"_

I lowered my phone and frowned at it. What was up with this lady? Maybe she had gone to the meeting tonight anyways and felt that the wizard was after her? I threw my phone down, knowing that I'd have to go check this out.

As I pulled off my pajama pants and threw on some jeans, Dean looked up at me with a frown. "Where do you think you're going?"

I rolled my eyes at his overly-parental attitude. I tugged my leather jacket on over my tank and looked for the keys to the Cadillac. "Caroline wants to talk or something. I won't be gone long."

Dean scoffed in disbelief. "Damn straight—you won't be gone at all; you're not going."

I gave him a look and snatched the keys up from where I'd thrown them in my bag. "Don't wait up, _Dad._ " I knew Dean was cursed, and I was being insensitive, but, _God_ , he had been fraying on my nerves all damn day.

"I mean it, Kate," he said in a stern voice. He was glowering at me as he rose out of the chair. "That chick is psycho; you're not going over there in the middle of the goddamn night."

"She's afraid, Dean," I tried to appeal to his pathos. "This wizard guy is kidnapping women, and she fits the mold! She just needs somebody to talk to."

"So call her up!" He threw a hand towards me and my cellphone. "You two can chat all night long about your feelings from the comfort of our apartment!"

There was no reasoning with my brother on a normal day, and this curse made him impossible. I walked towards the door. "We help people for a living, Dean. I'm not going to stop because it got hard."

I was walking through the door as Dean let out a string of curses.

"Katelyn! Goddammit! You're not going over there alone!" He could come all he wanted; I was getting into the car.

As I started the engine of the Cadillac, a hand slammed against the passenger's window. I looked up at a fuming Dean. I opened the window a crack.

"Wait 'til Sam's outta the shower, and then we'll drive over," Dean growled.

"Just meet me over there then!" I suggested angrily. "Caroline could be in trouble, and I'm not gonna wait for Sam to finish conditioning his hair to possibly save her life."

Dean's expression turned deadly, and it took all I had to not shrink under it; I'd been the recipient of his parental authority for too many years to not be affected by it. "Get out of the car, Kate."

"Dean—"

"I will pull you out of this goddamn car right now, Katelyn!"

 _Oh my god. He was insane._ I threw up the middle finger and shifted into drive.

" _Goddammit, Kate!_ "

I peeled out of the parking lot, feeling very much like the dramatic teenager I was acting like. _God, Dean is going to kill me._ I took a deep breath and focused on the road. If Caroline's life was better off for it, it'd be worth it.

* * *

I pounded my fist on the large front door, throwing a tense glance behind me. I had my gun and knife, but I didn't like the idea of the wizard going after women like me. (Nor the idea that Dean was probably speeding over here to pound my ass, a soapy and pissed Sam with him.)

A crash came from inside, snapping me back to the present. _Well, if that isn't an invitation to enter for a Winchester, I didn't know what is._ I pushed on the door to find it locked. I pulled the lock-picking kit out from my back pocket and started fishing.

Another crash echoed around the house when I pushed the front door open. I didn't call out, hoping I could catch the bastard by surprise if he was in here. I drew my gun and moved around the entry way into the sitting room, the dining room, the kitchen—all clear. I soundlessly moved towards the grand staircase and up to the second floor.

Glass shattered from the back room. I followed the sound towards the master bedroom at the end. I could hear Caroline sobbing and her voice pleading. I made it to the bedroom and kicked the door open with my gun drawn, ready to fire in the next second at this psychotic, witchy bastard.

To my surprise, the only person in the room was Caroline. With smeared mascara and a face of desperation, she looked up at me. She had clothes in her hands, and she was stuffing them from a suitcase into drawers.

Before I could ask, she let out a sob and blubbered, "M-my _husband!_ "

 _What in the hell? Her husband was dead, wasn't—_

As I went sailing out of the bedroom and into the hallway's hard tile, it clicked: her husband was a ghost.

"Oh shit," I groaned as I pushed my aching self off of the tile. I had exactly two emergency rock salt bullets in my jeans' pocket. I hurriedly shook out the regular bullets of my gun and reloaded with the two. Two wouldn't save us from a vengeful spirit; I'd have to get Caroline and haul ass.

"Caroline!" I called out, ready to shoot this ghost as soon as it showed its spooky self. I treaded closer to the bedroom door, and Caroline was collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

"We gotta go, Caroline," I urged her, keeping myself very aware of my surroundings.

" _I can't!_ " she wailed. "I, I've been trying for _weeks!_ He stops me every time I _try!_ " Her explanation brought on a new round of sobs.

Her weird behavior finally made sense—she admired my ability to stand up to my brothers, she wanted to learn how to get out of this situation from my confidence, and she wanted a confidant. _God. Poor Caroline Jenkins._

"You didn't have Resident Ghost Expert Number One on your side last time," I assured her with a small grin. "I can get you out of this, alright?"

All of the pictures on the walls flew off at once, making Caroline cry out and wince.

"Trust me," I pleaded, reaching a hand towards her. "Let's move or die trying, OK? It's not worth it to stay here."

She nodded warily, accepted my hand, and followed after me. I led the way down the hallway, keeping an eye out for the vengeful spirit.

Just as we reached the stairs, the husband popped out of nowhere. He sent me into the banister just as I got a shot off in him. He dissipated as I shoved myself off the railing. _One bullet left,_ I thought.

"That'll stall him for a bit," I said as we pounded down the staircase. "We gotta move fast before he pops up again."

"How do you know all of this?!" She hurried after me in a daze.

I threw a glance over my shoulder. "My family knows about all sorts of crap like this." We booked it for the front door, still wide open from when I'd came in.

"Crap like this?" Caroline repeated in disbelief.

"Weird, supernatural whatever," I roughly clarified. We continued our jog closer to the door, and I could see the Impala pull up in the driveway. _Well, hot damn; Dean is going to serve me my ass as soon as he reaches me. Maybe Sammy, too._

"Come on, let's head to—" Just as we reached the front door, it slammed in our faces and cut off my instruction. I grabbed the doorknob and yanked to no avail; the lock had been unnaturally jammed.

"Oh God," Caroline croaked.

I turned and pushed her behind myself. "You married a real winner, Caroline." I kept the gun trained around the room. "Go push the window open."

I heard her try to pull it as I scanned the room.

"It's locked! I, I can't get it open!" _Figures._

"KATE!" _Double figures._

The doorknob jiggled, and then the wood took on the angry attack of Dean's fist. "Open the damn door!"

"We can't!" Caroline wailed back. Another sob crept into her throat.

"Kate!" Sam called anxiously.

"We're fine, Sam!" I called through the door. "There's a pissed ghost in here; it bolted the exits."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed.

"Caroline, I need you to find something to get the window open, OK?" I told her, still scanning the all-too-silent area.

"Like what?" she asked nervously.

"Like—" I was thrown across the room, over a table and into a vase. The ceramic shattered around me as I made impact with the ground. _Ugh, I'm going to hurt tomorrow._ I tried pushing myself up, and I was brutally yanked up the wall by my neck. My gun was still on the floor, and the angry, dead husband had his supernatural grip around my windpipe.

A rock sailed through one of the windows, making Caroline shriek.

 _"She's not leaving me,"_ the ghost growled, somehow tightening his fierce grip on my throat. I kicked and thrashed against the wall, but I couldn't make a sound.

"Guess again, bitch." Dean shot a round of rock salt through the ghost, punching me in the gut. I fell the few feet to the ground, coughing and gasping.

Dean knelt beside me and helped me up. "Come on, we gotta move." I grabbed my gun off the ground and trotted after him. He kept his hand around my back and pushed me out the now-unlocked front door.

"Caroline?" I croaked. I looked around and didn't see her or my other brother.

"Sam's got her in the car," Dean said. I looked up to see Sam sitting behind the driver's seat, Caroline beside him. I booked it to the passenger's side and got in just as Dean jumped in and started the engine.

"Where's your husband's remains, Caroline?" Sam asked sympathetically as Dean sped away from the property.

"Greenwood Cemetery," she answered meekly. "It's a five minute drive down the highway. But… I don't think we'll make it very far; I'm so sorry." Tears welled up in her eyes.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean demanded glaring back at her through the rear-view mirror.

"Every time I try to leave town, Gregory stops me," she said.

"What—" My question was cut off as the car jerked and veered to the wrong lane and then back again.

"Good ole Greg just popped up in front of my damn car!" Dean exploded furiously.

I rolled down the window and kept my gun trained for any sign of the spirit. Dean called my name in aggravation, but I ignored him. As we merged onto the highway, Greg's spirit stood in front of the car. I shot it off, and we sailed through its dissipation.

"I'm out of bullets," I croaked through my raw throat. I yanked my hair out of my face and threw it into a ponytail; leaning out of the car while Dean drove like this was a disaster for long hair everywhere.

"Sammy, how many you got in the shotgun?" Dean asked, throwing a glance back through the mirror.

"Uh, I'd—" Before he could check, I grabbed the shotgun from the backseat and resumed my aim out the window.

"Goddamn it, Katelyn!" Dean spat. "Sit your ass down and buckle your damn seatbelt!"

"I'm a little busy, Deanne!" Survival came first; safety could come second.

Just as Gregory's spirit appeared, I shot it off again.

" _Get buckled now, Kate!_ " Dean ordered angrily. With an eye roll, I slumped back in and complied. _Dean and his stupid curse._

"Get off at the next exit," Caroline said quietly from the backseat. At this speed, Dean was pulling off within the next minute. I stayed ready with my gun pointed out in front of the car. _God help us if we speed past a cop like this._

"It's around this corner," Caroline directed nervously. Just as Dean took the sharp turn, Gregory jumped into the car with us. The wheel was cruelly yanked to the left, slamming the whole right side of the car into a brick wall.

It all went black.


	9. Caroline's Conclusion

**Late chapter because I spent the day getting fried at the beach. (Regrets.) To all those in the CA, NM, AZ heatwave-I feel ya.**

 **Thank you, as always, for your kind responses. I love you guys!**

 ** _Chapter 9: Caroline's Conclusion_**

"Come on, Kate. We gotta go! Kate!"

I blinked my eyes open. I wasn't in the Impala anymore; I'd been dragged out of the car and was lying on the sidewalk. Dean was cradling me in his lap. _God, my head is aching._ It throbbed, making my stomach roll.

"You OK?" he asked me in a rough voice. He inspected my bleeding, injured head.

In response, I pushed myself away from him and towards the curb before puking up the little I still had in my stomach. The bile eroded my already bruised and pained throat. I groaned, making the whole situation worse. Dean was at my side instantaneously.

"God, you got a concussion," Dean stated, mostly to himself. "You can't lie down yet, though, OK? We gotta get to that body; I don't want that bastard ghost coming after you while we're digging."

I lolled my head as my vision focused in and out.

"Is she OK, Dean?!" Sam's worried voice snapped me out of my stupor. I looked up to see him supporting a limping Caroline out of the car. The Impala was wrecked on the right side, smashed and scraped against the wall. Dean must really love me if he wasn't currently bemoaning his precious Baby.

"Concussion," he answered back, squinting at my bleeding scalp. "You sure you're—"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dean," Sam assured him. He held the shotgun out in front of him and threw Dean another. "Let's salt and burn, alright?"

Dean nodded and put his gun at the ready before turning towards me. "Think you can make the trip?"

Gregory's spirit appeared, and Dean shot it away in the same instant.

I looked over at the cemetery across the street and let out an almost groan through my aching throat. "Just go without me." The thought of moving made me want to hurl again.

"Not a chance, kid," Dean said. He wrapped an arm around my middle and dragged my limp arm across his shoulders. He supported me as we stood, and I staggered at the change in position. "Woah, hey, I got ya. Come on; we'll make this quick, alright?"

I tried to force down my throbbing and my nausea and my stupor to stumble alongside my brother. Dean kept the shotgun pointed in front of us as we followed Sam and Caroline into the cemetery.

"OK, where's your husband buried, Caroline?" Sam asked.

She gestured towards a large wall of urns. "He wasn't buried; he was cremated. His ashes are over there."

 _Oh, why was this our luck?_ I sagged under Dean's hold, letting the head injury overwhelm me at this stupid, stupid news.

"You said he was buried!" Dean yelled angrily. His grip on me tightened as I tried to fall to the grass. The grass would be twenty times better than staying vertical right now.

Sam held out a cautionary hand towards our brother before focusing on Caroline. "Caroline, if his body is already burned, there has to be something else tying Gregory here. Did you keep anything of his? A, a lock of hair, maybe?"

She shook her head. "No, no, I didn't."

 _Oh God, this night was going to be eternal._ I slumped more, but Dean simply supported me more. "Just let me sit, Dean," I squawked wearily. He threw me a worried, doubtful side-eye but gently let me sit at his feet.

"His ring!" Caroline exclaimed in realization. She wiggled it off her ring finger and held up the platinum wedding band. "I got it resized for myself after he passed."

"Let's kill it." Dean pointed an accusatory finger at the band.

I leaned against Dean's jean-clad legs in defeat and moaned, "We forgot the lighter fluid."

Dean ran a weary hand down his face as Sam offered to run back to the trunk and get it. Before jogging off, he let Caroline down onto a gravestone, mindful of her discolored and swollen knee.

Dean kept his gun at the ready, but he still ran a hand through my hair reassuringly. "We'll head back soon, alright? You can sleep in, and I'll make you some toast and eggs whenever you wake up."

I grimaced. "No eggs. No toast. Chocolate chip pancakes. Extra syrup."

His sigh was fond and annoyed. "Your sugar obsession is gonna kill you one day, kid."

"But what a way to go," I mumbled.

Caroline's scream rocketed me away from Dean's legs and him stumbling towards her. She was being dragged away, pulled entirely by her unnaturally blonde hair. She thrashed against the grass as her scalp hauled her body weight along. I pushed myself onto my knees, but I stumbled back down when I tried to get to my feet.

Dean fired off salt at the spirit, but it knew what to expect; it disappeared right before he fired, and it reappeared in the next instant—right next to me.

 _"You took her from me!"_ Gregory spat in my ear before slamming me against a headstone. I coughed in pain as my back took on yet another brutal beating from this bastard.

Dean fired at the ghost, but Gregory moved out of the way before the salt could land. "Hey, dickwad!" Dean called with his gun ready. "Take on a real man—not some injured girl."

That "real man" that I called my brother went sailing across the graveyard and tumbled through the grass. _Great. Good work, Dean._

"Gregory, please," Caroline sobbed from her crouch on the grass. Unhappily, the ghost stalked towards her.

Sam ran up, the lighter fluid in hand. He looked to me and Dean before focusing on the real victim. "Caroline, toss me the ring!"

With a cry, she hurled the ring in our direction. The ghost reached her and held her up by her throat.

Sam poured lighter fluid on where the ring had landed in the grass.

 _"If I can't keep you here, then you'll join me in the afterlife, dearest!"_ the ghost growled. _"You're_ mine _!"_

With a struck match, Sam lit the small pyre on fire. Just as Caroline struggled for her final breaths, the spirit erupted into flames, allowing her to collapse to the grass in a coughing fit.

I gave a weak, half smile. "Good work, Sammy." He gave me a small smile and knelt to support me to my feet.

"Nicely done, Sammy!" Dean congratulated as he came back over. He helped Caroline to her feet.

"Yeah, couldn't have done it without you, Dean," I dryly commented. "You were a 'real man.'"

He scoffed my comment off as we all hobbled back to the Impala. "Please, I was totally necessary to offing that ghost."

Rolling my eyes would've made me nauseous, so I ignored him and turned to Caroline. "Are you OK? We can take you to the hospital if—"

She shook her head. "No, no, I'm OK. I…" She let out a shaky breath and looked up at me with a wavering smile. "I'm free."

I gave her a smile back. Yeah, I guess she was.

* * *

As we pulled up to Caroline's gigantic house, Caroline timidly asked, "Sam, Dean, could I… speak with Kate alone? For just a moment?"

Dean looked suspiciously at the woman while Sam gave her a gracious nod and moved out of the car. When Dean still hadn't moved, Sam jerked his thumb for him to get out. With a sigh, Dean looked to me for confirmation, and I gave him a nod. He rolled his eyes and pushed himself out of the car. "I'll be right over there." He jabbed a finger towards the porch steps and slammed the car door shut.

Caroline took a deep, shaky breath and waited a moment before she asked, "Kate, you've been dealing with spirits and, um, that sort of thing for a while now, am I right?"

 _Uh, OK…?_ "Uh, yeah, I have." _Where was this going?_

"So, in your experience, have you been led to believe that there is an afterlife?" She looked up at me with wide eyes.

 _Ergh…_ "I… Yeah. We've had some experience with Heaven and Hell."

Her eyes drifted downwards, and her shoulders sagged. "Do you believe I'm a bad person, Kate?"

 _What?_ "No, I don't."

"I—" She looked up and stared longingly out the car window. "I've killed someone, Kate. I killed my husband." She locked her pleading gaze with mine. "He used to physically and sexually and verbally abuse me day after day after day after _day_ …" She dropped her gaze again. "I snuck up behind him one day when he was showering and pushed him down. He hit his head wrong on the tile, and that was all it took. I made it look like an accident, and everyone believed me. They called it an accident, and I was so afraid of what I'd done, but I finally felt free for the first time in years…"

"Caroline," I started gently.

"He deserved it," she told me confidently with sad eyes. "But I think that means that I also deserve to rot in Hell. I thought that's what this was, when he first started appearing to me. And every time I tried to get away from this godforsaken house, he always forced me to stay.

"But you inspired me, Kate," she said sincerely. "You gave me the hope that I could get out. And, now you've released me from him." She gave me a wobbly smile.

I grinned softly back. "Caroline, you were strong in all of this; you started and ended your escape."

Her eyes dropped again. "That's why I wanted to know. I just wanted to know if those eternal flames would be there to greet me when I die."

I shook my head. "Caroline, I don't think it works like that; murder is bad, obviously, but I don't believe that you are a bad person. I've killed people when my life was at stake, and I don't think that'll condemn me. I think the same goes for you."

Her eyes lifted and held a renewed hope. "You think so?"

I smiled reassuringly at this desperate woman. "I really do."

She gave a nod and smiled to herself. She scooted to get out of the car before pausing. "Thank you, Kate. For everything. I'm entirely grateful to you and your brothers."

I patted her hand with a smile. "Anytime. Just don't thank them too much; Dean's head is already big enough as it is."

She smiled and got out of the car. Sam came to help her up her steps, but for how mangled her knee had gotten, she practically strutted up those steps. She was free of that bastard husband, and her straightened back and renewed confidence reflected that.

Dean slid into the driver's seat beside me. "Chick flick moment go good?" He started up the engine.

I rolled my eyes and slouched against the damaged car door. "We just made out for a few minutes, Dean. It was a really romantic girl power moment."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me as Sam jogged back to the car, getting in on the left side—the right doors were bent shut until Repairman Dean could salvage them.

"Let's go sleep for a year or two," Sam announced as Dean pulled away from Caroline's place.

"Or a decade or two." I let my eyes drift shut. My head and throat were still throbbing painfully.

"Yeah alright, ladies, let's stop the bitching; we'll be back to the apartment in no time."

I hummed my satisfaction.

"Kate." Dean's voice was stern, so I grunted an acknowledgement. "If you ever drive off like that again, I'm going to beat your ass, you got me?"

"Yes, sir," I grumbled, grinning at the annoyance that surely showed up on Dean's face; he hated when I called him that. It's not like I had a car anymore, anyways; I had reluctantly handed Caroline back her keys on the car ride back.

"Dean, may I please finish my shower when we get back, sir?" Sammy joined in on my joke. "I'll keep the door unlocked and everything, sir."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, let's bitch about the _cursed_ older brother trying to keep his only family members breathing," Dean bitched. "Laugh it up."

I wrinkled my nose in amusement and leaned against Dean's arm. "Sorry for disrespecting you, sir."

Dean huffed his annoyance as Sam and I exchanged an amused glance.


	10. A Winchester Family Staycation (Sequel)

**_Chapter 10: A Winchester Family Staycation (The Sequel)_**

"Hey."

 _Go away…_

"Kate." Dean nudged my arm.

I grunted unhappily from underneath my pillow.

"Kate." Dean pulled the pillow off of my head, and light attacked me through my eyelids. I squinted my eyes open to see Dean hovering over me anxiously.

"What?" I demanded. Based on the light coming in through the windows, it was late morning. _But I was so beautifully asleep, dammit._

"You OK?" Dean prompted, his eyes scrutinizing me.

I kicked down my frustration and pushed myself into a sitting position. "I _was._ " Sitting up made everything _hurt_ —my head renewed its pounding where it'd hit the car window, my throat felt swollen and sore, and my back was aching with layered bruises.

Dean put up his hands like he was innocent or something. He backed away to grab a couple of painkillers off the bedside table. He handed them to me with a glass of water. "How's the head?"

"Shit," I grumbled as I painfully swallowed the pills and water. I set the glass down and absentmindedly rubbed my neck.

Dean placed his finger under my chin and tilted my head away so he could look at my throat. He sucked in a breath; there must be some gnarly bruises. "Wish I could kill that bastard ten times over."

The bathroom door opened, and Sam stepped out, freshly showered. He looked to me and tossed down his towel. "Hey, look who's finally up."

I squinted around the room. "What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty," Dean answered. "I was starting to think you'd dropped into a coma or something." I glanced at my brother and saw sincerity behind his joking demeanor. _Poor, cursed Dean._

"You're insane," I muttered through my raw throat and pushed myself up and off the bed.

"I made pancakes," Dean announced, following me to the kitchen area. "Chocolate chips and all." He threw me a small smirk.

"Aw, you do love me." I smiled at him and sat in front of a plate stacked with lukewarm chocolate chip pancakes. I dumped the syrup bottle over onto the cakes and then dug in happily, hurting throat and all. Dean chuckled at my sugar-induced enthusiasm.

"What time are we heading out?" Sam asked as he zipped his bag up.

"To Minnesota?" I asked around a mouth full of pancake.

"Yeah, we still gotta check out that Topher guy," Sam said.

"Wait, wait, just hold on," Dean said, throwing up his palms. "You," he pointed to me, "took a nasty beating last night. Your throat is still blue, and your head is—" He grimaced, and I raised a challenging eyebrow. "Well, frankly your forehead is disgusting. Baby's window got you good."

Dean turned to Sam. "And you—" He paused and stared at our brother. "Well, you got off pretty good, but _come on_ ; we were brutally attacked yesterday. Can't we have one recouping day?"

I slowed my chewing and looked to Sam. _This is one of those overprotective cursed Dean things, isn't it?_ Sam looked just as lost as I did.

"The sooner we find this bastard, the sooner we can be safer, Dean," I tried to appeal to his big-brother mode.

"And if we find this bastard today, you could get another blow to the head that will kill you!" Dean shot back with a furrowed brow. "No. We'll just revisit this whole situation tomorrow, alright?"

Sam and I stared at him in wonder. Dean was always the first to complain about not having a case or us wanting to have a few down days. This was the second time Dean argued for us to lay low recently, and it was still just as unusual.

"I guess we can hang around here today," Sam said hesitantly. He looked to me for confirmation.

"I really—" I began to protest.

"Great!" Dean cut me off and turned towards his duffle bag. I gave my annoyed look to Sam, and he returned a look of sympathy. "Grab your bathing suits, kids; we're gonna check out that pool."

Sam raised his eyebrows in amusement but sat down at the kitchen table with his laptop. "As fun as that sounds, I think I'm just going to stay here and research Topher."

I scarfed down the last of my pancakes and then leaned back in overly-full satisfaction. Those pancakes were delightful.

"Uh-uh," Dean disagreed, tossing swim trunks at Sam's head. "You can bring your laptop to the pool if you're so damn attached to it."

Sam gave him a disbelieving look. "It'll get wet, Dean."

"Then leave it here," Dean ordered as he fished out his own trunks. He saw me sitting and waved for me to move. "Space case, go put on your swim suit."

"I can't moooooooove," I groaned towards the ceiling with my hands on my stomach. "The pancakes were so good, and I couldn't stop eeeeeeeeating them."

"Well, you can digest them down at the pool," Dean said as he stepped into the bathroom to change. He slammed the door shut before I could protest more.

I lolled my head over and looked at my twin. "He's driving me insane, Sam. I'm going to go find a circus to join if he keeps insisting I never ever ever leave his sight again."

He gave me a doubtful look. "Well, you got the freakish face to make it into a circus." He smirked, and I flopped my hand out to slap his arm. He laughed and nodded towards my syrup-slathered plate. "And you can eat more than anybody I know, so that could be your gimmick."

I groaned at the thought of food. "I think I'm gonna puke."

Dean stepped out of the bathroom in his trunks. "That's seriously the last time I ever feed you chocolate chip pancakes. You turn into an insane three-year-old with no self-control when it comes to sugar."

I gave him my Pleading Eyes. "Don't make such hurtful threats."

He rolled his eyes and gestured towards my large eyes. "Put those away." Sam shook his head in amusement and stepped into the bathroom to change.

"I have self-control," I grumbled to myself as I pushed a design into the plate's syrup with my finger.

"Oh please," Dean scoffed as he dug through my bag. "How 'bout that time I took you two trick-or-treating, and you ate every piece of candy before we made it back to check them over."

I frowned. "I was nine; sue me." I stuck my syrup-coated finger into my mouth.

Dean chuckled fondly. "You up-chucked that whole night. Dad was so pissed."

I gave him a knowing smirk. "He was pissed at you, too."

He gave me a look. "How the hell was I supposed to know you'd eat every freaking piece of candy as soon as they dropped it into your hand? Your bag was entirely full of wrappers."

"Hey, I left the hot tamales in there," I defended as I stood to grab my bathing suit from Dean. "I have standards." Sam stepped out of the bathroom in his trunks, and I went in to change.

"Yeah, those are crap," Dean agreed as I shut the door. "Hurry it up in there! We're wastin' daylight!"

* * *

After Dean made me wait the full thirty minutes, I was _allowed_ to wade into the people-free pool. I guess midday Thursday in this apartment complex was not a popular pool time.

"Did you put on sunscreen?" Dean questioned me as I stroked my way across the pool. He was sprawled on a lounge chair with his shades on.

"You're going to have early heart failure, Dean," I commented, mostly to avoid giving him the answer he didn't want to hear. (But, honestly—a sunburn was the least of our worries.)

"It's high noon!" Dean defended. "Even tan people would burn under this freaking sun."

I grunted in response and continued my laps.

"See, giganto-boy slathered sunscreen onto his pasty skin," Dean pointed out with a finger indicating towards our brother sprawled out on a different lounger.

With his hands behind his head and his shades on, Sam frowned. "I do what you wanted, and I get the insults?"

"Dean, just focus on relaxing," I said, trying to change the subject. I was so not going to get out and wait to be dry just so I could put on sunscreen and come back in. "This whole day is supposed to be about recuperating, remember?"

Dean grunted and settled against his chair.

The gate to the pool squeaked open, and a tall brunette walked through the gate in trunks. He held a towel under one arm and was focused on his phone. He threw down his towel and then looked up and did a double take. "Oh. Wow. There's usually no one else here."

"Yeah, well, we're new." Dean offered him a tight smile.

The guy blinked and set down his phone. "Yeah, sorry. Good to meet you; I'm in apartment twenty-four."

"Twenty," Sam called out from the lounger.

The guy nodded and stepped into the pool. "Good to finally meet some neighbors. I'm Rex."

"Dean."

"Sam."

I gave a wave. "And I'm—"

"Kate," Dean finished for me.

I threw him an annoyed look before turning back to Rex. "These are my brothers. We haven't been here long."

Rex nodded and moved further into the pool. "I usually come here for my workouts after I wake up. I work the nightshift in the ER."

"Oh, sorry," I said, feeling awkward for being in the pool when he usually had free reign. I swam towards the steps to get out.

"No, no, you're fine!" he assured me. "It's refreshing, even. I never have company out here."

I gave him a timid smile and settled onto the pool step.

Rex's eyes focused in on my forehead. "Ouch. What happened there?"

I lightly touched it. "Oh, uh, car accident."

He nodded and gestured towards my purple neck, sides, and back. "Wow. You really took a beating."

I gave a shrug, but I could feel Sam's and Dean's eyes honing in on us.

"Well, how 'bout you keep your eyes to yourself there, pal," Dean suggested sharply.

As I threw Dean a look, Rex became instantly guilty. "Oh, sorry; I just noticed the bruising and commented without thinking. Doctor-brain is all-the-time thing, unfortunately."

I shooed his regrets away. "Don't worry; my brother is just insane. I try to ignore him." I offered him a smile, and he returned it.

"Kate, didn't you want to put on sunscreen?" Sam innocently suggested as he pointed to the bottle at his side. "It's really bright out today." I narrowed my eyes at him.

Doctor Rex nodded emphatically. "You won't want to burn."

I gave him a parting smile and trudged out of the pool. _Whatever; I was done swimming anyways._ Rex started his laps.

"Cockblock," I muttered under my breath to Sam as I reached his side. I grabbed the sunscreen and my towel.

"I'm simply a brother concerned about my sweet, baby sister's skin care, Katelyn," Sam said, facing the sun.

I roughly dried myself off with the towel and squeezed the sunscreen out, "accidentally" squirting some across Sam's face. "Oh, sorry! That just soared right out." I gave him an innocent look as he pulled off his sunscreen-coated sunglasses. He watched me with narrowed eyes as he rubbed the sunscreen off the lenses.

"Sammy, come slather some of that on my back!" Dean called, flopping over onto his stomach with a content grin. "Daddy don't wanna burn."

I froze my rubbing sunscreen into my arm. I slowly turned to Sam's recoiling expression and carefully dropped the sunscreen onto his lap. "All yours, pal." Cautiously, I backed up towards a distant lounge chair.

"Sammy!"

With a final look to me, Sam grudgingly went to our brother, sunscreen in hand.

* * *

Around ten at night, we dropped onto the apartment beds. I lied with Sam on his bed, and Dean let out a belch from a bed of his own.

"I could fall asleep right now," Dean commented, contently burrowing back into the mattress.

I snorted. "You're probably dropping into a food coma. You ate enough at that buffet to feed a small family for a week."

"Yeah, well, I probably burn as much energy as a family uses in a week," he defended lamely. I rolled my eyes.

"Dude, you ate just as much as he did," Sam said as he poked me in the side. "You just stuck to the dessert section."

I smiled reminiscently. "That cake was so damn good…"

Dean scoffed. "See, at least I ate real food. You're probably going to drop into a sugar coma."

"Whatever," I muttered. "Sam didn't eat real food either."

"Salad and a turkey burgers are real food," Sam said knowingly.

"Doesn't count," Dean and I said at the same time.

With a huff, Sam pushed himself off the bed. "Yeah, whatever. I'm going to get ready for bed. Don't hog my side of the bed, Kate."

I immediately threw my leg over his side. "I'll leave you the end, Sasquatch."

He slapped my leg away as my phone chimed from the counter. He grabbed his pjs from his bag and tossed me my phone.

"Who is it?" Dean asked lazily as Sam went into the bathroom to change.

I frowned. "Caroline." It was a text: _Hi, Tammy. I just finished putting together a little thank you present for you. Would you be able to come over ASAP? Sorry to bother you so soon._

"What she want?"

I sighed and got off the bed. "She wants to me to drop by. Where are the keys?" I scanned the tables and then shuffled around in a bag.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Dean's voice became instantly worried.

I looked over at him, knowing where this old song-and-dance was going. "To see Caroline. Hence the whole first half of this conversation." I returned to looking through the bag.

"No way, kid," Dean said, crossing his arms and settling back into the mattress. "That psycho witch is still on the loose, and you're not going to hang out with your little friend just for a late night chat. Tell Caroline that she can meet us at some other public location tomorrow morning."

I held in my groan and stared at the ceiling. _Why did this conversation feel so familiar?_ "OK, firstly? I can handle myself. And secondly, we are heading to Michigan tomorrow, and who knows when we'll be back. Besides, the wizard didn't show up last night, and he had all the opportunity to."

Dean raised his head to give me a dubious look. "Yeah, and you almost got pummeled to death by a freaking ghost! No way, Kate."

"Dean, you can come as my back-up if it'll calm your little, worried heart," I tried to appease him. "Just let me tie this end with Caroline, alright?"

He glowered at me, but I saw the cogs turning in his head.

"I still know how to hotwire a car," I hinted, lightly gesturing towards the door.

With a huff, Dean got off the bed. "Fine, fine. I'm going in with you."

I glared. "Dean. No."

He gave me an incredulous look. "Why the hell not? Didn't we all have a little bonding session last night? I thought the whole surviving-a-psycho-husband-ghost thing really brought us together."

"You can come if you wait in the car," I said.

He rolled his eyes grudgingly. "Fine. But you're gonna text me every five minutes. And the visit isn't going to take longer than a half hour, got it?"

I raised an amused eyebrow. "Got a bedtime to stick to?"

"No, but Sammy does." With a grin, he gestured towards the bathroom door just as Sam stepped out.

Sam looked to us in confusion. "I what?"

"Late night drive, Sammy," Dean announced, tossing him his jacket. I tugged my sneakers back on.

Sam pulled his jacket on over his t-shirt with a look of confusion. "Where are we going?"

"Caroline's," I said, staring at his plaid pajama bottoms. "You're waiting in the car with Mother Hen."

"Speaking of hens, I'm feeling peckish," Dean announced as he pulled the car keys out of his jeans pocket. "Does anyone have any—"

I slapped a packet of m&m's from my jacket onto his chest and headed towards the door.

"Ooh!" Dean cooed, ripping them open and following me out.


	11. A Call for Blood

**This was one of my favorite chapters in this story. :) If you have time, drop me a review and let me know what you thought!  
Enjoy!**

 ** _Chapter 11: A Call for Blood_**

"Every five minutes!" Dean called through the car window as I walked up the front porch.

"Yeah, I got it!" I returned.

"Use your manners!" Sam offered with a cocky grin.

I gave him a cute smile and flipped the bird. I turned and made the rest of the journey to the front door before knocking.

"Come in," I heard distantly. I turned the doorknob and walked in. There was no one around. "Caroline?" No answer. _OK, this is already weird._ As I closed the front door, I reassured myself by touching my gun and knowing it was full of witch-killing bullets. I had spare rock salt bullets in my pocket, if need be.

I moved past the entry way slowly, pulling out the gun, just in case. "Caroline?"

No answer. I moved further in and looked over at the sitting room to see a catastrophic mess. All of the décor had all been demolished. The paintings were scattered in strips across the floor, like a mockery of all of the effort she had devoted to them. The pictures were torn, and the vases were shattered.

 _Had her husband's spirit risen again?_ "Caroline!"

I crept around the sitting room into the main room and gasped. In the center of the room, was a gigantic chandelier. And from the center of the chandelier, Caroline's body swayed lifelessly, her neck choked by a silver tie that had been wrapped around the fixture. Her pale face had an unnaturally purple undertone, just like her swollen knee peeking out from her skirt at eyelevel.

"Oh, God," I choked in horror and ripped my eyes away from my friend's corpse. With shaking hands, I kept my gun up and pulled out my phone to dial my brothers.

"She was getting loud. I didn't want to waste my energy on her."

 _Oh my god. It was him._ At the same time I recognized who I was dealing with, I realized that I had stopped scrolling to call Dean. I couldn't even look up from the phone to aim my gun.

I couldn't move.

"Yes, that'd be the body bind I just placed you under," the voice confirmed darkly. His voice was as raspy as I remembered, like he'd spent too long shouting.

 _Damn it, damn it, damn it!_ I had walked right into this fucking trap. And Caroline had died for this. _For this!_ She had lived through so much heartache, and this bastard—

"Katie, there's no need to call names, is there?"

 _Oh, God._ He was in my head.

"Yes, I can hear your thoughts. Which benefits me quite well, considering what I plan to do with you."

My head was allowed to raise, and I looked up to see the wizard. He wore all black—black shoes, black dress pants, black button-up shirt, black suit vest, and a black tie. Even the burlap sack placed over his head had been tainted black. He blended seamlessly into the shadows along the wall.

"It's an important occasion, Katie," he informed me with a casual extension of his hands. "I thought I'd dress up. And you're just in fucking jeans and a t-shirt."

He was insane.

He opened his hand towards me, and my body was jerked closer and closer towards him until I stood right in front of him. I still couldn't move a muscle, but I could see and hear and feel and smell. He reeked of a heavy musk that I couldn't get out my nostrils—like mildew or something rotting.

"Yes, it's a side-effect of the spells I've been performing," he told me. "Takes a toll after a while."

A distant grandfather clock chimed, and I thought back of my phone and Dean.

"Every five minutes? God, my curse is working beautifully, I see."

Ugh, he was pulling thoughts from my head. He swiped the phone out of my hand as I concentrated on thinking of nothing in particular.

"A quick text of 'still alive' ought to do it," he said to himself. "That's something you would say. I've studied you for so long that I think I could answer questions about you faster than you could." He typed the message into the phone, and I stared at his hands. They were scarred over, bright patches of red scar tissue marring the pale flesh.

"Yes, a constant reminder of everything I've been working towards," the wizard said with a wave of his discolored hand. He tucked my phone into his pocket before turning to me. "I've been waiting for so long, and you're finally here. I just don't know where to begin! Ha!"

He turned and circled around me. I glanced over and was caught off guard by how close I was to Caroline's dangling feet. I looked away in revulsion.

"Oh, you're right, you're right," he said to me. "She is disgusting." With a snap of his fingers, Caroline's body dropped lifelessly to the ground, her body giving a solid smack as she hit the tile.

"Let's leave her and take this to the dining room," he said in his coarse voice. He started walking towards the large room, and my body floated helplessly after him.

"First…" he muttered to himself. "I want you positioned here." He waved his hand, and the table cloth and china place settings sailed off the table and crashed into the wall. He waved his hand again and brought me up to lie across the empty mahogany table. "Yes, and I want you facing here." He had me lie on my right side, facing the door. My arms were stretched upwards, my hands dangling above my head. My back was to him, making me feel incredibly exposed.

"Yes, I suppose you are." His finger drifted along my back, and I felt my insides shrivel. His fingers immediately latched onto the hem of my t-shirt, and he yanked it upwards, ripping it at the seams. He let it bunch up at my chest, leaving my whole midsection revealed.

"Perfect," he whispered softly, trailing his hand across my still-bruised abdomen. I decided right then and there that if there was a just God, I would die quickly, and this bastard would follow me down.

"You could be right," he told me. "But I'd hate to have you go too quickly; I have plans that you need to help me fulfill, Katie.

"Now, let's set up shop, alright?" I heard him shuffle behind me, and then I heard metal hit the table.

I couldn't help but let my thoughts dreadfully wonder what he was doing.

"Dean owes me a retribution," he said in my ear before picking up an object behind me. He placed a large, cold blade on the skin of my side. "How deep, how deep…" Without warning, he sawed into my flesh, tearing it open like a flap. If I could scream, I would have been howling with the sudden flare of biting pain.

"Oh, that was too deep…" he murmured softly to himself as he pinched the opened skin together. "Let's try that one again." Just above the last, he brought the sharp blade down and sliced through the skin. I wanted to writhe in the agony he was meticulously inflicting, but I couldn't even lift a finger.

He softly chuckled behind me. "Perfect." He trailed his salty fingers across my wounds, making them pulse even more with pain. Blood ran down my back and stomach, leaving crimson trails.

He sighed with relieved satisfaction. "Let's call in the guest of honor." He walked in front of me, and I could see him poking at my phone with bloodied fingers. He hit a button, and I could hear the dial tone on speaker.

On the second ring, Dean answered, "Are you having the best damn tea party of your life or what? You've got twenty minutes 'til I call it."

"Oh, I don't know about tea parties," the wizard said, "but Katie and I are having oodles of fun."

 _"Where is she?"_ I could hear Sam's voice and car doors slamming in the background.

"Come join us," the wizard invited calmly. "Walk past Caroline Jenkins's limp corpse, and you'll be on the right track."

I heard Dean curse this son of a bitch before the call cut out. The wizard dropped the phone onto the ground and waited the short minute for Dean to arrive.

Dean barreled into the room and was able to get a shot off before the wizard froze him like he did me.

"Ugh, you shot me," the wizard noted disdainfully as he touched his torn suit jacket. "Just a graze, though." He looked back up at Dean's frozen, rage-fueled expression. "Where's your brother?"

After a moment, the wizard answered, "Well, I can hear your thoughts. But thank you. I'm sure Sam will barge in here with a half-assed plan shortly. Now, I'll take that." He easily took the gun out of Dean's hands and placed it on the table by my head.

Dean's ready hands were left empty and pointed towards us. His eyes landed on me, assessing me, and then halting on my bleeding side with fury.

The wizard chuckled. "We're just beginning, Dean! Now, this is all worthless if you don't understand. Do you know who I am? Katie certainly doesn't."

Dean glared at the wizard.

The wizard shook his head slowly. "I'll give you a few hints: Farnorth, Ohio. Over a year ago." He pulled off the sack on his head, revealing his disfigured face. His dark hair was in short patches across his head, his nose was bent wrong, his eyebrows were missing, and thick, red scar tissue swarmed his face. "You left me to die in that fire."

Dean's eyes held recognition and a bit of regret.

 _Oh my god._ This was Kevin. Kevin? The Kevin who was a student—

Kevin whirled on me bitterly spat, "Yes, the worthless student wizard that you promised to help before you knocked me down to the ground with a crowbar." He stalked towards me with a burning glare. "I saved you, and you _betrayed_ me. But… I can see your thoughts. You thought I was alive… You tried to find me… Hmm…" He turned away thoughtfully.

"But you." He turned towards Dean, his resentment rekindled. "You _knew_ I was alive. You checked my breathing. But you still left me to **_burn!_** " The walls of the house shook with the reverberation of his anger. My hands twitched with freedom as he shouted, but then they were quickly frozen again.

Reading Dean's thoughts, Kevin shouted, "You didn't know I tried to help your sister?! What the fuck does it matter?! You _murdered_ me in that house! I may have clawed my way out of the rubble with my flesh sizzling onto my bones, but Kevin the student wizard died that night. And you, Dean Winchester, created _me_."

Kevin whipped around and stalked behind me. I heard him pick up the knife, and Dean's eyes frantically zeroed in on the blade and my side. With a wrathful lash, Kevin sliced the blade down above the last two strikes.

"I'm helping you seek atonement for your sins, Dean," Kevin bit out in his abrasive voice. "You don't care enough about yourself to hurt over your own injuries. I have to target your siblings to _make you_ mourn your mistakes." He brought the blade down again, just above the last, and I wanted to cry out desperately. My whole side was burning with a fierce agony—

Kevin grabbed my face and spat, _"You don't know burning."_ He shoved my face back down and brought the blade back to my side. My face felt wet and sticky where he'd touched me—my blood had coated his hands and was now coating my cheeks.

"Do you regret it yet, Dean?" Kevin demanded harshly, bringing down another slice. "Do you hate what you've done?" He sliced again.

A smile crept into Kevin's voice as he murmured gruffly, "And with her stripes, you shall be healed." He brought the knife down into my side again, and I couldn't think with all of the pulsating pain. He sliced again.

"Let's tell Dean how you're doing." Before I even realized what was happening, I was screaming out loud, no longer trapped in my head. My pained, sharp cries echoed around the room as Kevin cut into me again.

"That's enough." My scream cut off abruptly, and I was back in my pain-swirling head.

"Do you hate your sins, Dean?" Kevin shouted irately. "I want to hear you say it!"

" _YES!_ " Dean exploded with his response. His eyes raged wildly as he responded. "FUCK! YES! JUST STO—!" Kevin cut him off.

"I sold my soul to prepare for this day," Kevin growled with another slice. "I killed the pure to strengthen my abilities. Those women had the clean belief that virgins have." He sliced into me again. "I thought you'd appreciate that, Dean—me going after virgins." He sliced into me again. "I know how sex-crazed you've allowed yourself to become." He sliced into me again before straightening and clearing his throat.

"Where's that gigantic Winchester?" he inquired as walked around the table to be closer to Dean. "He'll regret it if he finds a way to end me, you know. I didn't prepare for this night without setting up a few security measures in the event of my death."

 _What the hell did that mean?_ I could barely make sense of anything with all the pain burrowing into my nerves.

"I hope you are the one to kill me, Dean!" Kevin shouted furiously. "You wouldn't even understand the repercussions of your mistakes!" As he continued shouting, I realized that I could twitch my hands and let out a groan.

"QUIET!" Kevin barked at me, making my muscles suspend again.

A shot rang out, and Kevin faltered into the table. As he grabbed his other arm, he groaned; Sam had shot him through the wall.

I watched as Dean dropped his hands and zero in on the gun at my head. I tried moving and found that my hands were also free. I grabbed for the gun and got it into my hands. I cocked it just as Sam barreled into the room with a ready gun.

"STOP!" Kevin froze all of us immediately. With a grunt, he pushed himself off the table and walked towards Sam. "Welcome. Glad you could catch us at the conclusion of our party." He snapped his fingers, and Sam's gun clattered to the ground. Kevin turned on his heels and stalked back towards me. His saw the gun in my hands and rolled his eyes. "Your last name is so fitting for how gun-crazed the three of you are."

"The thing is, Dean," Kevin spat angrily, stalking back towards my oldest brother. "I don't care if I live or die! I just want you to suffer! And if your siblings—innocent or not—do as well, so be it!" He snatched Sam's gun off the ground and waved it wildly. "Your siblings won't live through the night, Dean! I'll make sure of it!"

I focused all of my energy into moving my finger. Kevin's anger was distracting him just enough that I could twitch it. I just needed to press down the trigger. It would hit Kevin. I just needed to press down—

A shot rang out, but it wasn't from my gun; it was from the one in Kevin's hands. I looked over to see the calf of Sam's light-colored pajama pants soak in his blood. Kevin had shot my brother in his leg.

"I will kill him, Dean!" Kevin shouted furiously, trying to make his voice louder than Dean's rampaging thoughts. "I promise you that! Sam and Kate will—"

 _BANG._

My finger moved. I got it to pull the trigger. The gun fired, directly at Kevin.

Kevin staggered back, pressing his hands to his abdomen. I couldn't see the wound because of his dark suit, but his trembling hands pulled away with dripping blood. As Kevin's powers wavered, Sam collapsed to the floor.

"Y-you shot me." Kevin stumbled towards me with disbelief saturating his disfigured face. He pointed his gun at me. "It wasn't supposed to be you." His bloody hands cocked the gun, and he prepared to fire.

Dean was free enough from the supernatural hold to latch onto Kevin from behind. As Kevin flailed his gun, I took the opportunity to shoot again, aiming for the heart. The gun went off, and Kevin faltered back into Dean. Blood bubbled on his lips before he crumbled to the ground.

Panting in exhaustion, I dropped the gun and gritted my teeth. My side was burning like a bitch. I tugged my t-shirt down and tried to staunch some of the bleeding with the thin material.

Dean hurried towards me and pushed my hands out of the way. "God dammit." He tore open my shirt, pulling it off of me quickly. I shivered as I lied in just my bra and jeans, the shock and blood loss finally catching up with me.

"Sammy, how you doing?" Dean pressed my shirt against my side and cursed as I cried and writhed from his pressure.

"I'm OK," he answered from the floor. I glanced over to see him tie his torn-off shirt sleeve over his bullet wound.

"Neighbors had to have called the cops, Dean," I mumbled as my vision went wonky.

"Yeah, yeah let's get you out of here." He lifted me into his arms, and I cried out as my side was nudged open.

"Sam," I gasped. We couldn't leave him.

Sam struggled to his feet and leaned against the wall. "I'm fine, Katie. I'll follow you guys out."

Dean cast him an anxious glance as he jogged me to the car. "I'll help you out, Sammy. Don't move! I'll be right back!" Dean hurried out of the dining room and through the main room. Leaning over Dean's arm, I had a clear view of Caroline's body lifelessly staring at me. Guilt choked my heart.

"She didn't have to die, Dean," I mumbled miserably into his thick jacket.

"Shh, I know, I know. But she's in a better place now, Katie," he tried to reassure me as he trotted out of the house and to the Impala.

I let the silent tears roll down my face as Dean placed me on the backseat. It didn't really hurt when he lowered me down. Caroline's death didn't really hurt anymore. I was going into shock.

"Hey, hey," Dean tried to coax me out of it. "I need you to breathe for me, kid. Deep breaths, alright? I need to go get Sam, and then we're out of here."

Caroline had just gotten away from her husband. She had just gotten her life back.

"Katie, I need you to hold this shirt to your side, OK?"

 _Why did she have to die, too?_

"Shit. Katie, come on." My hands were grabbed and pressed against my side. I sucked in a breath, but it didn't really hurt. "Don't move, OK?" I heard a car door slam, and then I was alone.

Everything was so familiar. A witch was dead. An innocent (or so I had believed of Kevin originally) was dead. Injured, I was dropped into the backseat. Dean ran off to get Sam before we could speed away.

I began to hyperventilate.

 _Kate, you're fine,_ I tried to tell myself. _It's all over. The witches are dead, and your brothers are fine, and you are going to_ live _through this, goddammit._

The driver's door opened, and both of my brothers clambered in through the surviving half of the car.

As the roared the engine to life, Dean threw me an anxious look. "Katie? You OK?"

I tried to answer, but my breaths were too short, and I wanted to throw up, and I wanted to leave here forever. I whimper escaped my lips instead of an answer.

Dean cursed as he sped away from Caroline's house.

Sam moved into the backseat as much as his height and hurt leg let him. He leaned down to my level and offered me a shaky, reassuring smile. "Hey, Katie. We're leaving. You're OK. You just gotta stick with us, OK?" I gasped for a real breath, and he practiced deep breaths. "Breathe with me, alright? Like we used to do, remember? Breathe in with me…" He inhaled, and I followed his lead. "…And out with me." He let it out slowly, and I did too. He smiled approvingly and led me through a few more breaths.

I could breathe again, but everything was fuzzy. My fingers and toes felt like ice.

"You OK, Katie?" Sam asked as he ran a large hand through my hair.

"'m cold," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

His hand moved off of my hair and gently investigated my blood-matted shirt. He spat a curse. "Dean… She's lost a lot of blood, man."

"I know," Dean said bitterly. "We gotta stitch it, but, just… Keep pressure on it."

Sam pressed down on my filleted side, but I barely felt the pressure.

"She's going into shock." Sam's voice was every shade of nervous.

"'m OK," I struggled to reassure them.

"I'm taking you two to a damn hospital," Dean growled, jerking the car around.

"No," I protested weakly. "Please, just stitch me up." I mumbled my words, so I wasn't sure if they really heard me. But after a frustrated grunt, Dean jerked the car back around again.

"I can't have you separated from me," he agreed gruffly. "But if we ain't going to the hospital, you are not allowed to die on me back there, Katelyn. Got it?"

"Promise," I whispered as everything drifted to darkness.


	12. Fixes

**You guys are incredibly sweet. Thank you so so so so so much for your reviews!  
(Today's chapter is short, but I hope you enjoy!)**

 ** _Chapter 12: Fixes_**

When I woke up, my whole side felt like it was on fire. I gasped, and my eyes shot open. My hand flew to my side, and I struggled to move off the mattress I was on.

"Hey, hey," Dean coaxed me, dragging my hand away from my side. "Sorry, I just finished stitchin' ya, Katie. You passed out so you don't have any pain meds in you yet."

I made my eyes focus on my worried brother. I glanced past him to see Sam sitting on the other bed in a t-shirt and boxers. A bloody bullet was on the ground, and he was holding the wound in his leg closed. A suture kit was next to him, indicating they were just above to fix him up.

"Finish Sammy's leg," I mumbled with a chin jerk towards my twin.

"Katie—" Sam tried to protest.

"You're bleeding out, Sam," I fired back. "I can handle the pain for a minute longer." I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the even breaths that Sam had coached me through. I felt Dean move away from me, and I listened to Sam's breathing stutter every time the needle tied his skin back together.

"Here, I got you some pills," Dean said. I opened my eyes and slowly picked up the two pills and put them in my mouth. He helped guide a glass of water to my mouth and let me get a couple of sips. I collapsed back onto the bed in exhaustion.

After a minute, the bed dipped next to me. I opened my eyes to see Dean fretfully hovering, a rag in one hand and rubbing alcohol in the other.

"I gotta clean it, Katie," he told me apologetically.

I frowned. "Tomorrow."

He ignored me and poured the alcohol onto the clean rag. He leaned towards me and rubbed off the dried blood that Kevin had smeared onto my face.

"This is gonna sting," he warned me as he reached to clean my side.

I pushed his hands away. "No. Please. No—just no more pain. Please, no." My lower lip began to tremble as I held back my tears. It had been a traumatic, pain-filled day, and I just wanted it to be over. "Let it be over."

Dean turned and shared a look with Sam. Sam hobbled the step over to my bed and sat by my head. He took my hand and encouraged quietly, "Katie, you have thirteen rows of stitches in your side; you can do this."

I let the tears come down my face as I shook my head. "I can't take anymore, Sam. Just wrap it. I, I can't—"

"I'll make it quick, I promise," Dean told me. "But I have to clean it, Katie. I didn't clean it out before the stitches because you were bleeding out so bad. You can't get an infection." One of his hands grabbed onto my hip, just below the first slice.

"No!" I thrashed away from him, making him hold me down more. Sam hurriedly grabbed my arms and crossed them across my shoulders. He snuck underneath me so that I was lying in his lap as he held me down. Dean poured the alcohol on, and I screamed as it burned the already torn-and-sewn flesh.

"Shh, you're OK," Sam promised me, holding my upper half close to him. "It's almost over." I sobbed as Dean pushed the rag through my side of stitches.

"Hey," Sam said in my ear, "do you remember that time when we were—God, I don't know. Twelve? And Dean took us to that diner because Dad was out of town."

Through my tears, I glanced down at Dean. He was intently focused on cleaning my wounds.

"And all you wanted was a damn chocolate shake," Sam continued in amusement. "But Dean said you had to get real food, so you pouted and didn't order anything. And then I threw a fit over something, and you snuck behind our backs and ordered your damn chocolate shake anyways." He chuckled softly. "Dean's face was priceless. I grew a new respect for you that day, Katelyn Winchester."

"Yeah, and I got a wake-up call that I had to keep a closer eye on your insubordinate ass," Dean grumbled as he taped on a large piece of gauze to my side.

I relaxed into Sam's hold, feeling relieved and slightly embarrassed for freaking out like that. "Thanks, Sammy. Thanks, Dean."

As Sam kissed the top of my head, Dean rubbed my cheek affectionately before standing. "I'm going to take a shower, and you two aren't going to move." He pointed a parentally stern finger at us. "At all. I'm keeping the bathroom door cracked open, and I'll know if one of you so much as coughs, got me?"

I was too tired to even roll my eyes, so this whole speech was wasted on me.

"Dean, we need to find a way to end this curse, man," Sam said worriedly.

Dean waved him off. "I found a whole damn list of spells in Kevin's pocket. We'll look it over tomorrow and find a way to cancel whatever the hell he did." He moved and handed Sam pain pills and water. Sam obeyed as Dean rummaged around for clean clothes to change into.

"No moving!" Dean barked before going into the bathroom and leaving it purposefully cracked. The shower kicked on.

Sam sighed and ran his hand methodically through my hair.

"Sam?" I asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Did you know? About… about Kevin." My voice wavered on his name. "That he was alive."

"Kate, Dean didn't even know," he said.

I shook my head. "No. At the house, in that fire, on that day—did you know? Did you let him burn?"

Sam hesitated. "I saw his body. But Dean said he was dead… I thought we were just burning his body."

I let my eyes close and softly accused, "And you never told me."

"We knew that you felt like you owed him," he defended lamely. "We didn't think you needed that burden on you."

"Whatever," I grumbled. "This family is always keeping secrets from each other. Why would another one matter?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, leaning his head down towards me.

I shook my head. "Just an observation."

We were silent, and I was still kind of pissed at my brothers for keeping things from me, but there was another burning question that I had to ask.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you hear what Kevin said about the repercussions?" I asked hesitantly. "With his death?"

Sam was silent for a moment too long. "Yeah, I did. But Kevin was a little more than screwed up, Kate. I don't think we should worry about it right now."

"'k," I mumbled, relaxing against him again. I knew Sam was avoiding this issue for right now because we didn't have any answers. But I couldn't get Kevin's threats out of my head.

I must've fallen back asleep because a freshly-showered Dean was carefully lifting me off of Sam. I mumbled something, and Dean slowly lowered me to lie on my good side. I peeked an eye open to see Sam sprawl out on the other bed, and Dean lied down beside me.

"You OK?" Dean asked. He raised his palm to my forehead to check for a fever.

"Tired," I slurred drowsily. I forced my eyes open and stared at him. "Are _you_ OK?" _My poor, big brother._ He always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his heavy eyes reflected that.

His eyes rolled as he tried to pass my worry off. "I'm fine."

I tried to get a serious response by giving him my I'm-worried-about-you face. "Really?"

He gave me a small smirk. "Katie, who's Batman?"

I smiled back. "You are."

"Damn straight." He kissed me on the forehead and flopped onto his back with a tired sigh. "Wake me up if you need something."

"Thanks, big brother," I mumbled in a yawn. "I love you, Batman."

"Back at ya, kid."

"I love you, Sammy!" I whisper-yelled over to the other bed.

Sam's tired voice stirred into a "What…?"

"Just say something sappy, man," Dean grumbled as he ran a hand down his face.

"Yeah, love you…" Sam trailed off into a snore.

I smiled contently and closed my eyes. Physically, I was a mess. But these two idiots couldn't have made me happier.


	13. A Typical Tuesday Morning

**To the lovely guest reviewer who worried about that being the last chapter, fear not-I have one twist (and five more chapters) left to torture the Winchesters with. ) Enjoy!**

 ** _Chapter 13: A Typical Tuesday Morning_**

I woke around seven the next morning to my side burning fiercely. I grimaced and tentatively touched my bandaged side. _God damn._ _Kevin really knew how to fuck a girl over._

I opened my eyes and blinked in surprise. A large man with dirty blond hair was asleep beside me. In my bed. _God, Kate. How many painkillers did you down last night?_

I slowly got out of the bed, careful not to disturb the man. I didn't even remember bringing him home last night, so if I could avoid the awkward I-can't-even-remember-your-name-but-good-morning encounter, I would.

I looked around the room for my bag, and I noticed a freakishly tall man asleep in the other bed. His long, brown hair was flopped onto his face as he softly snored towards the ceiling. I cringed. _God, did I bring home a three-some last night? Those meds must have really did a number on me._

I spotted my bag and quietly stuffed my overflowing clothes back into it. I grabbed a loose t-shirt and threw it carefully over my head and torso. As I zipped my bag closed, the blond in my bed stirred. _Damn it._

"Kate…?" he asked blearily, rubbing his eyes and looking up at me.

 _Double damn it—he obviously remembered my name._ I ground my teeth and answered, "Yeah, sorry, go back to sleep. I've just gotta… run for some breakfast." _Or out of town on the earliest bus until I can find another supernatural gig. Details._

He frowned and pushed himself off the bed. I tensed as he walked closer to me. "How's the side? You need more pain meds?"

"Uh, it's fine," I answered. I leaned away as he gently reached for the hem of my shirt. "Look, I've really got to get going."

"Where?" He finally noticed my duffel bag slung over my good shoulder, and his anxious eyes locked onto mine. "Why do you have your bag?"

I grimaced. "Look, I was a little out of it last night. I'm sorry, but… let's just go our separate ways now, alright?"

His eyes narrowed on me, incredulous. "What the hell are you talking about?"

The brunet in the other bed sat up, blinking in confusion and pushing his hair out of his face. "What's going on…?" _Great._ _Now I have to deal with two morning-after strangers._

"Nothing." I quickly tried to shut this whole thing down.

"Damn right," the blond told me with narrowed eyes. He took my bag off of my shoulder and dropped it onto a nearby chair. "What the hell are you talking about, Kate?"

 _Oh boy. This guy wouldn't be so easily ditched. Lord help me if he realizes I don't even remember his name._

"I was just thinking of making a coffee run," I offered in appeasement.

"Your side was shredded," the blond said disbelievingly, as if I needed the reminder. He jabbed a finger towards the stool at the kitchen counter. "Sit down. I'll make some damn coffee." He turned and stomped into the kitchen before I could fight his bossy attitude.

"What a jerk," I muttered under my breath. I went over to a stool and sat.

The brunet in boxers and white t-shirt hobbled over and took a stool beside me. His leg sported a taped piece of gauze, flecks of old blood having seeped into the white. "How're you doing?" he asked me with large, concerned eyes.

"Uh, I'm fine," I answered, turning away. How much did these guys know? Did I tell them that a psychotic wizard attacked me, or did they just notice the rows of self-made stitches when I took them home?

As the blond brewed coffee, the brunet reached for the hem of my shirt. "Does it feel infected?"

I jumped up from the stool and swatted his hand away from me. "Don't touch me."

The two men blinked at me in surprise. The brunet became sorrowful and said, "Kate, are you doing OK? Last night—"

"OK, I'm done here," I announced, stomping away and snatching my bag. My side flared with pain at my jerky movements, but I pushed past it.

"Kate!" one of them barked.

As I grabbed the doorknob, the worried brunet latched onto my arm. "Kate, what's wrong? Where are you going?"

I yanked my arm away and glared up at him. "I'm skipping town, so just leave me alone, OK? Last night is over; I'm no longer a drugged girl you can convince to take you home. _So leave me alone._ "

"What are you talking about?" he demanded as I pulled the door open. He slammed the door shut with one hand before I could walk out.

I glowered up at him. "Let me out."

"Not until we get some answers," the blond stated gruffly, coming over with a furrowed brow.

"I just want to leave!" I spat. _How dare these two bastards trap me in this godforsaken apartment?_

"Why?" the blond demanded an answer as he crossed his arms.

"Because I don't fucking know you!" I exploded. "That's why!"

That stunned them. The brunet blinked down at me in shock, and I had a sudden, nagging feeling that I was missing something substantial. "You don't know us?" he asked.

 _Ah, God._ I ran a hand through my hair and puffed out a breath. "Look, I was heavily drugged on painkillers last night. I don't even remember going to a bar or wherever the hell we ran into each other. All I really know is that I woke up with you two in my beds—"

"Ah, gross!" The blond grimaced openly, and I noticed the brunet subtly cringed away.

"Alright, I'm guessing I have this all wrong…?" I squinted between them, but I didn't recognize them at all. "Who the hell are you two?"

"Kate, we're your brothers," the brunet told me hesitantly. "You… you seriously don't remember us?"

 _Ugh. These two bastards were actually yanking my chain._ "As funny as this is, I'm leaving." I pulled the door open, and the brunet slammed it with his palm again. I glared up at him.

"I'm Dean," the blond said in an unamused tone. "That's Sam. Those names mean anything to you?"

I looked between them, trying to decide if they actually believed what they were saying. They looked pretty damn serious. "I don't have brothers. I'm an only child, always have been. Whoever you think I am—you've got the wrong girl."

"Katelyn Marie Winchester," Sam told me. "You were born on May 2, 1983. Your parents were John and Mary Winchester. When you were six months old, a yellow-eyed demon snuck into your nursery and killed your mother. Your father raised you to hunt all things supernatural. Still think we got the wrong girl?"

I took a step back from him. "H-how did you know all of that?"

His eyes softened. "You're my twin, Katie. The only part of that that wasn't my own personal information was your first and middle names."

Before they could react, I grabbed a bottle of holy water off the table and threw it over them. The two spluttered the water out of their mouths and wiped their eyes but otherwise remained unaffected. In a panic, I grabbed my silver knife from the bedside table and slashed at Dean's arm. Nothing happened except for a thin build of blood. He didn't even try to defend himself. I slashed at Sam's arm for good measure and got the same anticlimactic result. The knife in my hand clattered to the floor as I stepped back and looked between the two in disbelief.

Dean gave me an unamused look as he wrapped a spare towel over his arm.

I snapped my eyes over to him with a horrified expression. "And you think you're my fucking brother, too?"

He shrugged. "Big brother by four years. And I'm the best damn thing that ever happened to you, so watch your mouth." He threw another rag to Sam.

I looked between them. "You two are actually psychotic. I don't know who the hell put you up to this, but I would _remember_ if I grew up with siblings."

The two men exchanged a look, and Sam stepped up. "Kate, last night—"

I pulled my gun out from the waistband of my jeans and pointed it at him. "Shut up. I don't care who the hell you think you are, but I want nothing to do with you. You two are going to let me leave, and then you're going to leave me the hell alone, got it?"

With his hands raised, Sam took a cautious step backwards so that he was no longer blocking the door.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Dean reaching for the gun at his side. I quickly whirled and trained the gun on him. "Uh-uh. Hands up _now_." He reluctantly obeyed. I backed my way slowly towards the door.

"Where are you gonna go?" Dean asked challengingly. "You don't have a car."

 _Right_. "But you do." At least one of us was bound to drive a car. I waved my open hand towards me. "Give me your keys."

With a grudging frown, Dean reached into the pocket of his jeans.

"Good going, Dean," Sam muttered.

Dean held the keys out towards me but left them suspended. "Why don't we drive you? We know the area, and then we won't have to get the cops to bust your ass for grand theft auto."

"I don't make a habit of getting into cars with strangers, thanks," I bit back.

"Good thing we're not strangers, then." Dean's smile was thin.

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't know you."

"Well, that's your own loss. I'm a damn dream, princess."

"Give me the keys," I demanded through gritted teeth.

Dean tilted his head, considering. Then he shrugged and pocketed the keys. "No."

"Dean…" Sam's voice was unsure.

I blinked in disbelief. _No?_ "What?"

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean turned back to me and waved a hand. "I love my car. And I think I'd rather have you shoot me than hand over the keys." He looked me in the eyes and offered, "Or we could just give you a ride, and we could call off the whole bloodbath."

I bit the inside of my cheek as I thought it over. I didn't want to do this; I wanted to ditch these two strangers ASAP. But something about this all felt off. I didn't want to royally mess something up by shooting either one of them. _Ugh._ I hesitantly lowered the gun.

Dean grinned. "Awesome. Let's pack up, Sammy." He turned and helped his alleged brother hobble over to their duffle bags. Their low voices began a discussion not meant for my ears.

I let out a breath and tucked my gun back into my waistband. _God, my side is hurting like a bitch._ I carefully pulled up my shirt and peeled an edge of the bandage back. The rows of stitches were a little red, a little inflamed. I figured it was simply because I'd stitched them myself at an awkward angle last night.

"Here."

I looked up to see Dean handing me two white pills and a glass of water. I eyed them warily.

"Painkillers for that shredded mess," he told me in annoyance with a nod towards my side.

I pressed the gauze's tape back to my skin and let my shirt drop back down. I hesitantly took the meds and water, downing them as I watched Dean head back towards his bag.

"Where we heading to?" Sam asked me pleasantly, limping towards me with his bag over his shoulder. He handed me my knife back, hilt first. I took it back quickly.

I needed to get somewhere safe. Somewhere I could regroup and get my shit together. Like one of my safe-houses. "Lawrence, Kansas."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look, and Dean trudged towards me. "Yeah, let's get going, then." He took my bag off my shoulder and slung it over his own. Sam was right behind him.

I didn't want to do this. I really didn't want to do this. But it was either this or violently fight the men off my ass. The latter option seemed too abrupt; everything about this wasn't settling right with me.

 _Should I be fighting them off?_ Dean said something to Sam, and Sam nodded before the two ducked into the car. I blew out a breath. I would just keep my guard up for now.

Without a choice, I threw this apartment a goodbye look and grudgingly followed after the men.

* * *

We had spent five hours already cooped up in the car. Dean mostly sang along (badly) to his classic rock cassettes. Sam intently read over a hand-written pamphlet multiple times before intently reading stuff on his phone. I kept quiet in the backseat and observed the two. But I was getting drowsy, and I didn't want to let myself be vulnerable around them.

When Dean pulled over to fill up on gas, I got out too.

His gaze snapped to me. "Where are you going?"

I evenly met his stare. "Gotta pee. You want details?"

He grunted in response and refocused on fueling the car.

I went into the minimart and then into the bathroom. After peeing and washing up, I stared at myself in the grimy, scratched-up mirror. I didn't look any different than I remembered. I didn't feel like I was a different person. I was still Kate Winchester, and I still hunted the supernatural every damn day.

 _But why did something feel wrong?_

I huffed out a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. Sam was an aisle over, focused on a phone call.

"Any idea where we could score lamb's blood in Lawrence, Kansas?" he said into his cell. _Lamb's blood? What spell was he working on?_ "Yeah, I figured. Thanks, Bobby." He snapped his phone shut and then reached down for a bag of chips.

My instincts went on red alert. After this whole Kevin ordeal, I was officially swearing off any witch business for the rest of my life. _What the hell was this guy doing, messing with more spells? Was he feeding me lies and topping them off with some tricky witchcraft?_

"Oh, hey," Sam said casually as he noticed me standing down the aisle. He held up a bag of Veggie Straws and asked, "Want anything?"

I shook my head and walked towards the coffee machine. Caffeine was all I needed. After I poured myself a cup and dumped five packets of sugar in, I brought it up to the front.

"I got it," Sam told me with a smile as he paid for my coffee and his snacks. He'd gathered the Veggie Straws, a pack of beef jerky, and two bags of m&m's. After getting his change, Sam led me out of the minimart, snacks in his freakishly large hands. Dean was leaning against the Impala with his arms crossed, staring us down behind his sunglasses.

"He's been clingy lately," Sam told me conspiratorially. "But we're working on a way to tone it back down his normal overprotective behavior." He gave me a smirk as we reached the car.

"Took you two damn long enough," Dean muttered as he pushed himself off the car. He looked me over quickly before turning to Sam and walking around the car to the driver's side. "What'd you get?"

"Veggie Straws," Sam announced with a cheeky grin as we got into the car.

Dean made a disgusted face as he started the car. "Dude, those suck major butt."

Sam tossed the jerky at him. "Good thing I thought of your carnivorous needs, then."

Dean ripped into the packet of meat as he peeled out onto the main road. "You can call me anything you want as long as it gets me jerky." He hungrily pulled out a piece and stuffed it in his mouth.

"Dude," Sam said disapprovingly as we watched Dean chew messily.

"What." Dean could barely get the word out around his half-chewed food.

Sam shook his head and tossed a bag of m&m's onto Dean's lap. He tossed the other bag back to me and twisted towards me. "You may not think you're our sister, but you can hold your own against us when it comes to eating sugar."

I returned a weak smile and set the m&m's down on the seat next to me. "Thanks." I took a sip of my coffee. This whole situation was a little too surreal, even for a hunter like me.

Dean stared at me through the rear-view mirror and asked around a piece of jerky, "Did you eat any real food today?"

I raised my cup of joe in response and took another swig. Caffeine would keep me awake around these two.

Dean gave me a disapproving look and tossed the pack of jerky to me. "Eat."

I hesitated, but protein would help me stay awake... I took out a piece and ate it slowly, never taking my eyes off the two strangers I was stupidly, irrationally trusting.

 **Please review!**


	14. Lawrence, Kansas

**Yay! I'm so glad that you guys are enjoying this. Thank you so much to Mayremmy and the guest reviewer for leaving your kind thoughts!**

 **I'm about to put up another story "Winchester Trio Snippets." It'll have snippets from these Winchesters' lives (mostly childhoods). If interested, please check it out! (It will include various one-shots like the shake story that Ch. 12 referenced.)**

 ** _Chapter 14: Lawrence, Kansas_**

We pulled up to the lake house ten hours later. As we neared the secluded property, I offered directions, but Dean seemed to only vaguely listen as he took the turns. I wasn't sure if it convinced me of their sibling story or persuaded me to think of them as stalkers.

Like Kevin.

I hurried out of the Impala with my bag, just wanting to get inside the rustic house. I was feeling a little cold and achy, and my side was protesting being stuck in that backseat for so damn long.

I hurried up the porch steps, feeling a wave of nostalgia roll through me. My dad and I had some pretty good memories at this house. It had belonged to one of his hunter friends who had passed without a family of his own. As I grew up, we'd try to make it hear at least once a summer.

I picked the lock, knowing there'd be a spare set of keys inside where I'd left them years ago. The set of locks sprang open, and I turned the handle on the door. I froze when I heard the Impala car doors slam and a muffled conversation grow closer.

I turned around to see Dean and Sam coming towards the front steps, each with a bag over their shoulders.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded. There was no way in hell that I was letting these two in. I didn't know what their game plan was yet, and I wasn't going to let my guard down sleeping while they were around.

"Kate, I've been driving for fifteen hours," Dean told me dryly. "I'll be damned if you think I'm not gonna pick a bed in there and sleep for a few years."

I scoffed and crossed my arms. "Dream on, asshole. This is _my_ lake house, no matter who the hell you two say you are. You're not stepping _foot_ inside without my say-so."

Dean gave me a small, challenging smirk and marched up the porch steps. His concerned brother was right behind him.

I dropped my bag and pointed my gun between them. "Stay back."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "If you pull out that weapon again, I'm going to shove it—"

"Dean." Sam grabbed onto his arm warningly. "Just take a walk, alright? I got this."

Dean didn't even look at the other man. He simply pointed his index finger at me and stated, "If you shoot anybody, I'll take away that damn gun, Katie."

 _Oh my god._ I blinked in surprise, my weapon still trained on him. _He sounded just like my dad._

With a final look to Sam, Dean shoved his bag to the porch and stomped down the steps and around the house.

"Kate?" Sam's hesitant voice snapped me back to the present. His eyes looked to my weapon. "You really don't need to pull the gun out. We passed the holy water and silver tests, remember?"

My expression soured. "I don't know if you've heard, but I've been having a bit of a witch problem lately. I don't really trust humans much anymore either."

His eyes darkened as he nodded his understanding. "That's fair. Look, I promise not to hurt you or, or even touch you. Just… lower the gun?" He gave me a timid half-smile, and part of me relented.

I gradually lowered the gun.

He straightened and gestured towards the old porch swing. "Can we sit? Assuming that old thing hasn't rotted through yet."

I nodded and followed him to the swing. I kept the gun in my hands as we sat, just in case. If he made any moves, I wouldn't hesitate to use it.

We had a clear view of the lake, and Sam stared at it longingly. "God, I haven't been here in years. Since… since before Stanford. We were here for Dean's twenty-first birthday. Dad took Dean out to a local bar and left us here. And we shoved that dinosaur of a TV into our room and spent the night watching made-for-TV movies with candy and stolen beer." His smile was fond and sad. "That was one of the memories that ate at me when I went to college."

He was right; I'd last been here when I was seventeen. But it was only Dad that had left to go meet up at a bar with his old friends. And it was only me that shoved the TV into the bedroom and spent the night watching crappy movies. Hearing Sam try to throw himself into my memories… It felt wrong. Like he was intruding on a personal moment.

He looked over and saw my expression. "Sorry. It's gotta be weird knowing what you know and hearing me say stuff like that. I just… It's weird that you can wake up one morning and not remember us."

I bit my thumbnail, a nervous habit from childhood. "Yeah, well, it's weird to wake up one morning and realize you have siblings."

His eyes locked onto me. "So you believe us?"

I looked away. "I don't know. Honestly? Not really. I've had my mind messed with too much by these damn witches to really trust anything anymore."

He nodded. "So when those witches attacked you last year, what did you hallucinate?"

I hated how much he already knew about me. It didn't seem like answering his question would expose me anymore than I already was. "My dad. His death, a hundred times over." His eyes deepened his look of grief and trouble.

"Do you know who Bobby is?" he changed the subject abruptly.

"Uh, no." I blinked. "One of Dad's old hunter friends, I'm pretty sure." I tightened my grip on my gun as I remembered Sam talking to a Bobby in the minimart. "And someone you were talking to about lamb's blood."

Sam's look was a little disappointed. "Look, I know what you're thinking. But I swear—I'm not a witch."

I raised an eyebrow and laid my finger on the trigger of the gun. "I never said you were."

"It's just—" He broke off with a sound of frustration as he ran a hand through his long hair. "That wizard Kevin put a curse on Dean. It makes him anxious and constantly worried about us. Well, he's normally that way, but this curse amplified those insecurities. He can't even leave us alone. I'm sure he's eavesdropping on us right now."

"Am not!" The shout came from inside the house. Inside _my_ house.

I gave Sam a look of disbelief and hurried off the swing. I snatched my bag up as I charged through the front door. Dean stood at the kitchen island, casually spreading peanut butter onto bread for a sandwich.

"Get out!" I screeched, not fully believing that this bastard had snuck around back into my house. I let my bag fall to the floor.

"No." Dean closed his pieces of bread together and bit into the thick PB and J.

"Dude, where'd you get the food?" Sam asked in confusion.

"I grabbed crap at the last pit stop," he answered around the giant wad of sandwich tumbling around in his mouth.

I stepped forward aggressively as I tightened my hold on my gun. "Leave _now_."

"Here, come make one." Dean offered the bread to us, ignoring me completely. I glowered as my disbelief grew. Did he seriously think I was kidding?

Sam walked past me and stood beside the blond. He pulled out two pieces of bread and looked over the bottle of squeezable jelly.

I took an angry step towards them as they continued on nonchalantly. How dare they? They can't just pretend I don't exist when they don't want to listen! I stared at them making and eating sandwiches, and I opened my mouth to shout profanities at them. But my tongue slowed and everything went warm. The two of them, standing side-by-side and making food looked so familiar. My heart rate sped as I felt a connection; I felt like I _knew_ them. They, they, they—

I stumbled to the side and grabbed onto the edge of the island.

"Kate?" Dean dropped his food onto the island and came towards me. Sam followed.

"I'm fine," I gasped out, pulling away from them. I took a defensive step backwards as Dean's hand grazed my arm.

"You're hot." His worried expression cringed as he realized what he said. "Like, your temperature." He glanced at Sam. "Shut it."

I shook my head. Everything felt wrong. My limbs were cold, and the familiarity I felt was slowly subduing. I looked back at these overly concerned men, but I couldn't remember them still. They were still strangers, and they were strangers standing way too close to me. "I'm going to head up to bed. Sleep… wherever." I grabbed my bag and stumbled up the stairs. I didn't even care that I was letting these two sleep in my house. I just needed to get upstairs and to be alone. Nothing felt right.

Thankfully, the two didn't follow after me.

I picked the bedroom down the hall that I always did; it was right next to the bathroom. I dropped my bag into the room and then staggered into the small bathroom. I shut and locked the door before bending over the sink and looking in the mirror. I looked haggard. And pale. And a little sweaty.

I wanted to take a shower, but I just felt too lethargic. I settled for splashing cold water over my face and tying my hair into a knot on top of my head. I stumbled back to my room, threw on some pajama pants, and fell into bed.

It'd been a hell of day. One total nightmare of a day. And my pain meds had worn off again, but I didn't think I had the strength to get back up again. And I really, really didn't want to ask those two downstairs for any help.

I suffered through the burning in my side and tried to force myself to sleep.

* * *

When I woke up, I felt just as crappy as I did when I went to sleep. No—I think that I felt worse. I blearily cracked an eye open to see the dawn's light streaming through my window.

I need pills, I thought. I pushed the covers down and stood up. Everything swayed, and I felt woozy. I blinked my mind back into focus and headed out of the bedroom. I padded downstairs in the hopes that the pain meds would be in the kitchen.

When I walked into the main living space, I saw Dean asleep on the couch, his mouth wide open as he slept. Sam was nowhere in sight; he probably took one of the bedrooms upstairs. There were plenty of beds upstairs for Dean, so his presence on the couch threw me off.

My side pulsed with pain, and I moved past Dean to the open kitchen area. There was nothing on the countertops except for that loaf of bread.

 _Great._ I dragged a hand over my face and slumped against the island. I needed to sit down. I eyed the staircase, but I honestly didn't think I'd be able to make it all the way back to my bed. I'd go sit on one of the loveseats flanking the couch.

I stumbled towards the living room space, but I only made it to the couch before everything became too cold and too tilted. I collapsed onto the end of the couch, landing non-too-gently on Dean's feet.

He jolted awake, his hands flying off of his chest as he became alert. He slid his feet out from under me and stared hard, trying to focus. "Kate? You OK?"

I didn't care that I didn't believe his shitty story. I didn't care that I didn't trust these two at all. Everything hurt too badly. "I need pain meds," I gasped as I closed my eyes and sagged against the couch.

Dean cursed and sat up. He got close and put his hand over my forehead. I didn't have the care or ability to push him off. "Kate, you're burning up!"

I mumbled something about not feeling good. "Just want the meds…"

Dean wrapped an arm around me and helped me lie down on the couch.

" _SAM!_ " I flinched away from Dean's harsh and _loud_ call.

Dean's hands pushed my shirt up, but I opened my eyes and held his hands. "Just get me the pills," I begged quietly.

"You need more than that, Katie," Dean muttered as his sure hands brought my t-shirt up.

"What's happening?" Sam asked worriedly, taking the stairs down two-at-a-time.

"Damn stitches got infected," Dean growled as he pulled the long bandage off of my wound. The two men sucked in a breath as my injured side was exposed.

I pushed my head back into the couch cushion as I fought off a wave of aching pain. I couldn't contain my whimper, though.

My pained sounds snapped the two men into action. "Sam, go get some wet washcloths and put them on her; we've gotta get her temperature down."

They both hurried out of the room, and I whimpered again. I might not trust them, but right now, they were all I had.

Dean was back quickly; he must've ran up the stairs. "Here, put this under your tongue." He pushed a thermometer through my lips, and I closed my mouth on it. He hurried to get me a glass of water. He brought it over as Sam came down with the wet washcloths.

Dean knelt beside me again and took out the beeping thermometer. "Goddammit."

Sam laid the damp rag over my forehead. "What is it?"

"102.9." Dean brought over a handful of pills from the coffee table. He separated two and held up the glass of water. "Katie, I'm gonna need you to down some—"

I grabbed the whole handful of pills into my mouth and then tilted the water into my mouth. Some water trickled down my chin, but I got all of them down. I collapsed back against the couch.

"God, how many pills did she need?" Sam asked in disbelief as he laid another cool towel over my chest.

Dean was focusing on cleaning my side with rubbing alcohol. _Where had that come from?_ "Painkillers, antibiotics, fever reducers."

My side flared with pain as Dean rubbed at the inflamed skin with alcohol. I groaned.

Sam knelt beside my head as Dean continued. "Katie? Can you hear me?"

 _"Katie, can you hear me?" My twin's voice was crackled through the radio waves._

 _Underneath the bedcovers, I stopped reading my book with my flashlight. I blindly grabbed the walkie-talkie next to me and answered shortly, "Sam."_

"Sam," I gasped. _What was that? What the hell was happening?_

His large hand ran through my sweaty hair. "Dean's fixing you up. You're gonna be OK."

I opened my eyes and peered over at Dean. He was crouched anxiously at my side, trying to clean up my side.

 _A young Dean was crouched anxiously in front of me, trying to clean my knee._

 _"Ow!" I frowned and tried to pull my knee away from his stinging cotton ball._

 _He held my leg down and gave me a look. "Suck it up. It's gonna be a whole lot worse if we don't clean it, Katie."_

 _I grimaced and whined, "It hurts!"_

 _He wiped the skinned knee down with the alcohol-drenched cotton. "Then you should've listened the first time and stopped chasing those geese."_

 _I looked down at my pink shorts. "They wanted hugs."_

 _Dean rolled his eyes. "You're a doofus." He tossed the cotton ball into the trash and then grabbed a Band-Aid from the med kit._

Dean reached behind him and pulled the gauze out from the med kit. He started taping the large piece over my thirteen rows of stitches.

"'m sorry, Dean," I mumbled as the drugs and infection started to pull me under.

"For what?" His voice was harsh with spiraling concern.

"I shouldn't've chased the ducks."


	15. Desperate Times

**Thank you for your continued responses! I appreciate it tremendously. :) (And to the guest reader bingeing on these stories-hope you feel better soon!)**

 ** _Chapter 15: Desperate Times_**

I don't know when I woke up. Everything was cold and achy. I groaned as my side's pulsating jabs reminded me of its infection.

"Kate? You awake?"

I squinted my eyes open to see Sam hovering over me. His big eyes were very worried.

"Drugs're wearing off," I breathed. Everything required so much energy. And, unfortunately, I really needed to use the bathroom.

"It hasn't been four hours yet," Sam told me with an anxious look to his watch. "We gotta give it another twenty minutes, at least."

I grunted in response and struggled to push myself up the couch. Sam instantly helped me, taking a lot of my weight and morphing my name into a confused question about my intentions.

"Gotta pee," I grunted and made myself stand on wobbly legs. I didn't even care that this stranger was letting me lean on him as I staggered towards the bathroom.

 _Is he a stranger?_ I thought. _I had those weird images earlier that felt a lot like memories… Could some supernatural force really have convinced me that everything I've ever known is… a lie?_

"Dean's in the shower upstairs," Sam told me as we approached the downstairs bathroom.

"I should take a shower," I grumbled to myself as Sam opened the door for me.

"Yeah, well, once you can stand on your own, you can worry about showering," he told me with a small smile. I leaned against the sink counter, and he looked at me worriedly. "Will you be alright to…"

"Yeah," I told him, a small blush creeping into my already flushed face. I never had to depend on others, let alone strangers, let alone strangers helping me use a toilet. I think I'd prefer keeling over than that shame.

Sam gave me a nod as he slowly closed the door. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll just be on the other side of the door." I nodded as he shut the door.

With a deep breath to gear myself up to movement, I hurried to use the bathroom. I was able to finish up like the adult I was, but I sagged against the counter as I washed my hands.

My vision wavered as I watched my hands under the facet's streaming water. My body was getting warmer, and I didn't think I could stand… I couldn't stand any…

I collapsed to the floor.

 _My hands were being held under the facet by slightly bigger hands._

 _"I can do it!" I whined._

 _"Dad said I have to help you," nine-year-old Dean told me. He squirted the soap onto my hands and helped me scrub them together. "You still had mud on your hands when you came out earlier."_

 _I huffed but accepted my big brother's help. He scrubbed the crannies in between my fingers that I hadn't bothered to reach before._

 _"OK, let's go eat," he told me as he pulled the thin, motel-given towel down to share. We dried off our hands and went back into the main room._

 _Sammy was already stuffing his face with pizza, and Dad ate his own slice while he read a newspaper._

 _"I said to wait for me!" Dean complained as we reached the food. Almost half of the pie was already gone._

 _"Eat your food, Dean," Dad told him, not looking up from the paper. Dean grudgingly picked up a large slice. I followed his lead and picked up one of my own._

 _"Did you actually clean your hands this time?" Dad asked, giving me a pointed look over his paper._

 _I nodded and bit into my slice._

 _Dad looked over at Dean. "What did I tell you about playing in mud, son?"_

 _I frowned as Dean looked down guiltily. "But Dean didn't play in the mud. Only I did." Why was Dean in trouble?_

 _Dad turned his firm stare to me. "You know you're not supposed to play in the mud, too. But Dean was also supposed to be watching you."_

 _I took another bite of my pizza and thought about that. "That's not fair."_

 _"Life's not fair." Dad shook out his newspaper and resumed his reading._

 _Dean finished off his slice and then sat on the bed miserably. I knew that he would want more than one piece, so I went over to the pizza box and grabbed another slice. I brought it over to Dean._

 _"Dean, I got you another piece."_

 _Dean looked at me with a slightly amused, slightly sad grin. "Thanks, Katie." He took the piece, and I hopped up on the bed next to him to finish my slice._

"Katie?! Wake up, kid!"

I was so cold! My eyes shot open as I felt ice soaking into my skin. I was lying in a cold bathtub, entirely drenched in my bra, t-shirt, and underwear. Sam and Dean hovered over me with concerned expressions.

"'s cold," I mumbled. My feet were starting to feel numb.

Dean rubbed a hand down his face and muttered, "Jesus."

"Kate, I need you to keep this under your tongue, alright?" Sam leaned over the tub and placed a thermometer in my mouth. I closed my lips around it as I sagged back against the tub. After the shock of the cold had jolted me awake, I was exhausted.

The thermometer beeped, and Sam read, "103.8."

"What the hell is the point of all these pills and ice baths if they don't do shit?!" Dean threw a plastic bottle at the wall.

 _Dad threw a beer bottle at the wall, and it shattered down to the crappy motel carpet._

 _"Sam's gonna be back within the week," Dad said for the millionth time. His speech was a little slurred._

 _"I doubt that," I muttered as I picked at my black nail polish._

 _"What did you say, Katelyn?" Dad marched towards me. His stance and balled fists indicated that he was just brewing for a challenge._

 _"Sam's not coming back," I said bluntly. As hurt and angry I was for my twin abandoning us for college, I couldn't blame him in the end. If I felt a bigger and better option was out there for me, I would ditch this life behind, too. "This was a crappy way to grow up, and you know it. You can't blame him for trying to get out of this hell."_

 _"I raised you three the best that I fucking could!" Dad raged with a pointed finger._

 _"You didn't raise shit!" I shot back, my anger brewing at that one. I jumped off the bed and met him face-on. "Dean is the only one who gives a damn about me!"_

 _"I did everything for you!"_

 _"You made sure we didn't die," I told him bitterly. "Beyond that, you didn't raise us. It wasn't you that tucked me in; it wasn't you that hounded me on my crappy report cards. It was you that ran off to hunt all the damn time. And it was always you that would loiter in bars all night when you were in the same town as us."_

 _I don't know how much of my father's drunken mind took that little speech in. He mostly looked wobbly and furious._

 _"Shut your mouth," he commanded with a glare. "I did all I could, and you're still as ungrateful—"_

 _"Ungrateful?" I demanded incredulously. "You're selfish! God! If Mom saw—" My complaint was abruptly cut off as John Winchester slammed his fist into my mouth. I stumbled back and looked up at him in shock, gingerly fingering my split and bleeding lip._

 _My father soberly blinked down at me in surprise and shame. "Kate-Katie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"_

 _I blinked back tears and pushed myself over the bed and away from him. I walked to the door as he softly called my name, threw it open, and slammed it closed behind me._

 _"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean called through the Impala's window as he pulled into the motel parking lot. "Guess who got you tacos?" He held up a brown bag with a grin._

 _My tears were overflowing by now, and I knew anything I said would come out a sob. I chose to turn away from my brother and stomp down the sidewalk._

 _"Woah, woah!" Dean yanked the Impala into a parking spot, cranked it into park, and then hurried out of the car to sprint after me. "Kate!"_

 _I ignored him and pushed my tears off of my cheeks. More tears replaced them anyways._

 _"Kate!" Dean reached me and turned me to face him. His anxious eyes took me in, and I looked up towards the sky. "What's with the waterworks?" He grabbed my jaw and titled it before sucking in a breath. My split lip was on full display. "What the hell happened?"_

 _I pulled my chin away and rubbed at my tears with the back of my hand. "I pissed Dad off. Again."_

 _Dean's eyes zeroed in on me. "He hit you?"_

 _My smirk was forced. "I always said he was a bastard, didn't I?"_

 _Dean grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to him for a hug. He held me tight, and I relaxed into his hold. "God, Katie. I'm sorry. What the hell did you say to him?"_

 _Shame flooded my cheeks, and I pulled away from my brother. "I mentioned Mom. Which was stupid, I know. But I also never thought that he'd…" I trailed off and lightly touched my hurt lip._

 _Dean inspected it again. "You need some ice."_

 _I looked towards the motel room. "I'm not going back in there."_

 _Dean sighed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He led me back to the Impala and then ducked inside. He pulled out a Del Taco cup, poured out the whole brown-colored soda, but spared the ice cubes. He grabbed some napkins from the food bag, wrapped the ice cubes up, and then handed it to me._

 _My tears welled again as I accepted the makeshift ice pack. "Thank you, Dean."_

 _His expression was snarky. "It's soda-drenched ice. I hope that's not the best present you've ever got."_

 _I latched onto him in a hug as I tried to calm my swirling emotions. "Thank you. For always being there. And always taking care of me."_

 _He slowly returned the hug. "Yeah, well, someone's gotta." He kissed the top of my head._

Hands supported me underneath my arms. Everything was still cold.

"She doesn't feel any cooler," Dean grumbled.

I blinked my eyes open. Dean was right next to me, holding me up so that I wouldn't slip further into the bathwater.

Sam hovered behind him. "We gotta get her to a hospital, Dean."

"I know!" he shot back over his shoulder. "But we're in the middle of nowhere! By the time we drive out to a hospital—" He cut himself off.

"'m cold," I mumbled. My eyelids were drooping.

"We gotta bring your fever down, Katie," Dean told me softly. "Think you can swallow some more pills for me?"

I nodded, and Sam hurried out of the bathroom.

"Dean…" I muttered. I needed to thank him. And tell him that I was starting to believe them. I was starting to remember them.

"Yeah, I've got you, kid," he vowed quietly.

"Dean," I tried again, "I… I know…" _When did talking require so much exertion?_

Dean kissed my forehead. "Sam's bring back the meds. They'll fix you right up, alright? Just stick with me."

I took a slow, deep breath and said, "I remember. Not… all of it… I remember… You and… Sam…" I let out a breath. "'m tired…"

Sam came back in with drugs and water. As Dean held me up in the bath, Sam put two pills to my lips. "Can you swallow these?"

I nodded lethargically, and Sam slipped them past my lips. He poured some water from a glass through my lips, and I forced myself to swallow.

"Dean, I think we gotta call Cas," Sam said lowly.

"No." His response was firm.

"We don't have an option anymore." Sam's voice was insistent. "It's like you said—the baths and the pills aren't working. We can't get her to a hospital—what choice do we have?"

There was a pregnant pause. "Fine."

Sam cleared his throat. "Cas? Hey, man. Are you listening?" _Who the hell was Cas…?_

There was the sound of wind, and then a deep voice answered, "Always."

I peeked my eyes back open to see a tall guy in a trench coat standing behind Dean and next to Sam.

"Hey," Sam breathed. Dean frowned but didn't turn around. "I know we've been on the rocks, but we're… desperate."

Cas became concerned and then looked over at me. "I vowed to always help the Winchesters. While my mistakes may have damaged our relationship, I… I will always help you three."

"Yeah, let's save the kumbaya for later," Dean bit out. "Just fix her."

 _Fix me?_ I stared up at the tall, trench-coated man. "Who's the… stiff?"

Cas narrowed his eyes down at me. "What happened to Kate?"

"Hell of a lot," Dean grumbled bitterly.

"Her stitches got infected," Sam explained. "We can't bring the fever down."

Cas knelt down beside Dean and placed his fingers to my forehead. After a moment, he pulled away with a frown. "Her mind has been tampered with."

"Yeah, well, bitch witches pack a hell of a punch." Dean's smile was thin and unamused.

Cas shook his head. "I've cured the infection, but the infection isn't what is killing her."

"What does that mean?" Sam demanded as he crossed his large arms.

"Kate has a curse on her," Cas said. "The infection somehow heightened the curse's effects." He looked to my brothers pleadingly. "I won't be able to help her unless you explain the cause."

"A wizard put some curse on his death," Sam said. "When Kate killed him, she forgot me and Dean and, apparently, you."

"I remember," I gasped out my protest. _Ugh._ The cold water was numbing, but every muscle still pulsed with pain.

"Kate said she was starting to remember us," Dean told them.

Cas frowned down at me. "It's a contingency of the curse: if the curse starts to be broken down, her body starts to break down. The fever from the infection has made her delirious and brought on the memories; the memories brought the curse's contingency into effect. It's all very… circular."

Dean glared. "So she's dying because her memories are seeping through her feverish brain?"

Cas's nod was sharp. "The curse is holding her health now."

"How do we break the curse?" Sam demanded.

Cas's eyes traveled to me as he spoke. "Did the wizard have an accomplice?"

"In hell," Dean answered gruffly.

"He left behind a spell sheet," Sam said. "It has the curses outlined, but nothing definite on how to break them. Just random ingredients jotted around them."

Cas stared at us. "Do you know a witch?"

"No witches," I wheezed. I didn't care if I was dying; I didn't want my last day in this world to be spent with one of those douchebags.

They all ignored me. "We aren't buddy-buddy with any damn witches, Cas," Dean said in exasperation.

Sam tilted his head. "There was that coven in Virginia…"

"I will find one." Cas's leveled us all with his piercing gaze before abruptly disappearing.

"What the hell… is he?" I looked around in confusion.

"Angel," Dean grumbled. I stared at him. _Angels were real?_

He ignored my stare and said, "Come on; this bath isn't doing anything." He helped me sit up, mindful of my stitches. My oddly unpained stitches. I turned in his arms and tugged up my shirt. Where there had been thirteen rows of stitches, only smooth skin remained.

Sam gasped, and Dean whistled in amazement. "Your head is brand-spankin' new, too," Dean said, brushing over where I'd sported a nasty bruise.

 _Wow. Maybe angels were real. (And, after everything supernatural that I'd seen, was that so hard to believe?)_


	16. Flickering Embers

**This is my other favorite chapter. :) Enjoy!**

 ** _Chapter 16: Flickering Embers_**

"When's Cas… coming back…?" Speaking still required more energy than I seemed to have. My fever continued raging, and I felt like death. I was still in my damp clothes, but I'd been wrapped in a blanket and helped back over to the couch. I was able to tie my damp hair into a knot with a hair tie from my wrist before collapsing onto the couch.

"He'll be back soon," Dean assured me. He rubbed at his forehead with the back of his hand, and I noticed he was sweating. I frowned, and he caught me staring. He instantly became nonchalant and propped me up so he could sit on the couch, laying my head in his lap once he was settled. Sam worriedly sat at the other end and propped my feet onto his lap.

While I didn't recall most of our childhoods together, this fever had returned some strong childhood memories; I was believing that that these two were actually my flesh and blood. (As insane as that still was to me.)

"What's wrong… with Dean?" I mumbled my question to Sam before closing my eyes again. I had a feeling that Dean would deflect.

"Nothing," Dean cut in. _I'm always right._

"It's the curse," Sam answered me truthfully.

"Yeah, well, you'll have to excuse me for worrying over my baby sister when she's dying in my lap," Dean grumbled.

"I think… I believe… you," I wheezed.

"For caring?" Dean's tone was equally surprised and insulted.

"Being… siblings…"

"You should," Sam told me. "God knows Dad reminded us of it every second of the day growing up."

"Because you two tried to murder each other at least once a week," Dean cut in.

"I seem to remember that Dad's words were also directed at you, Dean."

Dean muttered something about stupidity under his breath.

"Tell me," I begged softly. "About… our lives."

"They suck," Dean said dryly.

" _Dean,_ " Sam reprimanded. "What do you wanna know, Kate?"

"Anything." The fever was swarming my muscles, and talking was getting harder. I let out an exhausted breath.

"How 'bout that time Sam accidentally locked us in a room full of vamps?" I could hear Dean's grin in his voice.

"How 'bout that time Kate drove your car into a group of vamps?" Sam's tone was dry, and I could feel Dean frown. _Yikes._

"First one," I muttered. _Let's not relive_ my _stupidest moments, thanks._

Dean cleared his throat. "A few years ago, the three of us were tracking down this nest of vamps. And we did a too-damn-good of a job because we walked right into one…"

* * *

Everything hurt, and the inside of my skull felt muddled. I couldn't focus well on my surroundings anymore. I couldn't even figure out how long it had been since that Cas guy popped out to find a witch.

Random things were triggering more and more memories. Sam brought me a glass of water, which reminded me of when Dean was sick and we attempted to nurse him back to health. Dean brushed my hair from my face, and I remembered being ten and begging him to help me braid my hair.

It was so frustrating to get your memories back in allotted snippets. I wanted so badly to remember everything and regain the integral part of this family that I had been a part of.

But every time a gained a memory, the weaker my body felt. I could hear my labored breathing with each tight inhale and exhale. My face was clammy and flushed, and I couldn't even remember what temperature my fever was soaring at anymore; it was beyond dangerous. My brothers had filled baggies full of all the ice we had and shoved them against my overheated skin.

"Goddammit!" Dean growled from behind me. I was on the couch, propped up against his chest. "Where the hell is Cas?"

"Here." Cas popped back into the room. Breathing heavily, I peeled my eyelids open and saw the angel holding a stoic woman by her upper arm.

"I've explained to Darla what I could," Cas said to us as he released the woman's arm. "She's from the Virginia coven that we helped years ago. And she agreed to help for a price."

Darla stepped towards me, but I didn't recognize her. I remembered the coven (not that I remembered the three men who claimed to have been there with me), but her indifferent, aging face was unfamiliar. Her long, ash-colored hair was partially covered by a maroon bandana, and she wore numerous ring and earrings. She reached out a hand towards my face, but Dean caught it before it reached me.

"Don't touch her," he ground out. I had enough trouble breathing to manage shooing Dean away.

She turned her level gaze on Dean. "I understand what has brought your sister to this state, but I vow to do all I can to make her whole—if you'll allow me to treat her."

" _Dean._ " Sam's voice cracked as he turned with pleading eyes to our brother. You could see it in his face—this woman was our only shot.

Dean stiffly released the woman's hand.

Darla refocused on me and brought her fingertips to the center of my forehead. Just as her skin touched mine, a swirl of memories swam through my mind—Kevin slicing into my side, Kevin warning me about what his death would bring. But they weren't how I remembered; now, Sam and Dean starred in these familiar images as well.

Darla pulled away, both of us heaving breaths. She wore a frown just above her eyes. "This is heavy magic. We'll need more than I can supply to save her."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?!" Dean spat viciously. I flopped a hand back on his arm in the hopes of somewhat calming him.

Darla straightened as her lips formed a thin line. "We must move her outside; the full moon's beams will help." She turned to the angel before either brother could scoff at the ludicrous idea. "Castiel, I will need my sisters with me if this woman is to live." Castiel gave a nod and disappeared.

"Outside," Darla verbally prodded my brothers to action with a nod towards me.

Sam went to gather my feet, but Dean picked me up into his arms.

"You got her?" Sam checked as we walked to the front door. Dean affirmed that and kept his eyes straight ahead. I noticed he was sweating, and his face was flushed as well. He was… he was getting worse. His curse must be wreaking havoc on him internally.

"Dean," I gasped. I wanted to comfort him; I wasn't the only one hurting.

He glanced down to me as we walked outside. "Hey, you're gonna be fine, alright? We're taking care of it. You'll be fine."

I didn't have the strength to really give him a pep talk concerning his condition or talk him back down to reality concerning mine. I let it go.

"What's the price for helping us?" Sam asked the witch as they followed behind us.

"I get to cash a favor from the three of you in the future," Darla told him.

"That… seems fair," Sam said.

Darla directed us to a glade near the brook. She told Dean to lay me down in the clearing of brush. He looked to her and knelt, holding me to him where she indicated. He still didn't let me go, though.

Cas appeared, a woman at his side. He let her arm go and disappeared again. He repeated the process, bringing more witches to the clearing, one-by-one, to form a circle around me. Although I recognized some familiar faces, the amount of witches slowly surrounding me made me feel uneasy.

"You're gonna make it through this, Katie," Dean said in my ear. His breath tickled the hair brushing against my neck as he softly spoke. "You've had your moments of stupidity, but you've always been the one that held out. You're the strongest."

I looked up at him with questioning eyes, and Sam knelt down next to us.

"It's true," Sam said. He gave me sad smile and smoothed out my gross hair. "I tried to get out of this life because I couldn't handle it. But you dove into this life head-first from day one. And when Dean died, and I couldn't… cope, you kept on going."

"You always make it." Dean's tone made it a statement of fact, like nothing could change it. "Even when a psychotic witch curses the hell out of your ass, and even when a psychotic witch targets you for his sick little games. You've never let me down, Katie." His lips pressed against the crown of head.

 _Dean was holding Sammy up. "Katie, you gotta go get Dad."_

 _My eyes were frozen on my twin. His face was way too pale, his face was screwed up in pain, and his arm was bent at such a wrong angle._

 _"Go!" Dean commanded._

 _I turned on my heel and sprinted back to the motel as fast as my ten-year-old legs could push me. After five minutes of running, I fumbled the room key out of my pocket and unlocked the door. I burst into the room with my chest heaving—but the room was empty._

 _"Dad?!" I called out frantically. Where was he? He needed to save Sammy! "Dad!"_

 _Dad wasn't there. With an angry frown, I looked around the room for the car keys. Maybe Dad had left without the Impala…? I gave up quickly, knowing how impossible that idea was._

 _I stormed out of the motel room, slamming the door behind me. I didn't care if it locked; I was on a mission. I looked around the mostly empty parking lot, trying to think of someone or something that could help us. But there wasn't a person in sight, I didn't know how to hotwire any of the cars that were there, and there was only a bike—_

 _Bike! I sprinted towards the teal cruiser and thanked everything holy that there wasn't a bike lock. I kicked the stand up and clambered onto the too-tall bike. After a wobbly start, I pumped the pedals into gear and took off for the forest that I had left my brothers in._

 _I made it there in record time, falling off the bike at my brothers' feet. Sam still looked agonized, and Dean watched me in an anxious wonder._

 _"Where's Dad?" Dean demanded as I got up from the dirt._

 _"I don't know," I responded frantically. I stared at Sam in worry as I pushed the dead leaves off my clothes. "He wasn't in our room, and the car was gone. But I found this bike."_

 _Dean eyed it for a second before looking to Sam. "Hey, Sammy. Think you can stand on the back and hold onto me?"_

 _Sam grimaced but stood up on his own. "Yeah."_

 _Dean pushed the bike upright and mounted it. He turned as much as he could to help Sam climb onto the back pegs. Sam latched onto Dean's shoulders with his good left arm and held his bad arm close to his chest._

 _Satisfied with his brother's position, Dean grabbed the handlebars and turned to me. "OK, Katie, sit on the handlebars."_

 _I stared at him with wide eyes. There was no way I was climbing onto that circus. "No way!"_

 _Dean's impatience showed immediately. "Get on now."_

 _I shook my head and backed up. I never liked heights, and I wasn't going to sit away from the ground when that many people were on the bike._

 _Dean groaned in frustration. "Katie, I'm not leaving my little, ten-year-old sister to get snatched up by sickos. Get on or I'll make you regret it."_

 _I backed up further and hit a tree trunk with my back. "No! You know I don't like heights, Dean! Just go without me! I'll go back to the motel!"_

 _He gave me a disbelieving look. "This isn't even high up!"_

 _"Katie, just get on the stupid bike!" Sam's voice was pained._

 _I shook my head but took a small step back to them. "I'll run next to you! Just help Sam!"_

 _Dean rolled his eyes impatiently. "Kate—"_

 _I took off in the direction of the road, knowing that my run would make him drop pressuring me. It worked like a charm, because he was riding at my side as soon as my shoes hit asphalt._

 _"This way, genius," Dean told me grumpily as he veered left. I ran to keep up with him, but I knew that he was going slow enough to stay near me. I knew Dean could ride almost as fast as car if he wanted to._

 _By the time we reached the hospital, I was panting hard. Dean had Sam step off the bike before dropping the thing. I collapsed onto a small patch of grass outside the front entrance. Dean threw me a worried look before bringing our brother inside._

 _When Dean came back to me, my breathing had returned to normal and I was staring up at white, puffy clouds._

 _"They're getting him x-rayed," Dean told me. He sat down at my side with a huff._

 _"Sam's dumb," I said, even though my heart kept clenching and unclenching as I thought of his snapped arm. "What kind of an idiot falls out of a tree and breaks his arm?"_

 _Dean stared at me. "You jumped out of a tree and rolled your ankle, remember?"_

 _I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, but I was, like,_ eight. _" I'd matured a lot since then; I wasn't a baby anymore._

 _"Yeah, OK." Dean rolled his eyes before throwing his arm around my shoulders. "I'm proud of you, kid."_

 _I looked up at him. "Why? I couldn't even get on the bike."_

 _He shook his head. "Whatever. You ran back for Dad, and you didn't freak when he wasn't there. And then you thought of a good idea to help Sam with the bike. And even though you didn't want to sit on the handlebars, you still ran all the damn way here." I blushed at his approval, knowing that he must really mean it if he was using the word "damn."_

 _"I'd do anything for you guys," I admitted softly._

 _"Yeah, I know." Dean kissed my head. "You never let us down, kid."_

The memory rushed through my brain, bringing a fire. My fingers clawed into the dry dirt at my sides, and I clenched my teeth as the agony shot through my veins. A scream erupted past my teeth.

"Kate!" It was one of my brothers or maybe both I don't know because I couldn't breathe let alone _think_ —

"She's succumbing!" One of the witches said. "Boys, you must step back so we can begin."

I thrashed against the ground, my feet digging into the ground as I screamed against the fierce and fiery pain.

"Now! If we're to save her, we must act _now!_ "

I screamed louder. The pain was everything. It was like my blood vessels were systematically being replaced by acid, like my brain was expanding out of my skull, and my head was a centimeter away from exploding.

There was chanting in some distant part of my consciousness, but I couldn't distinguish the world. My eyes were rolling back into the acid, and my teeth were burning away, and even my fingernails were being slowly ripped off of my flesh. My limbs had been beating against the dirt and brush, but I couldn't even tell if I was moving my limbs anymore. I couldn't feel the ground underneath me anymore.

It was like a symphony of perfect excruciation, rising and swelling and reaching an unendurable climax. I wasn't me anymore because I was only pain and fire.

And then it stopped.

It was a clear, sunny, spring day. I was barefoot on a park bench, my toes swirling in the lush grass. I had on crappy, faded overalls and a t-shirt. I looked around the vacant park and blinked at the scene before me.

 _Where am I?_

Childish laughter echoed from some distant trees. I squinted to see two boys and a girl jump out into the meadow. Each held large sticks, and the small boy and the small girl chased after the larger boy.

It was all so familiar.

"It should be familiar. It is your memory, after all."

I jerked my body to look right. A man sat beside me on the bench, entirely engrossed in the newspaper he was holding. He was dressed in a crisp suit, and I caught sight of his gaunt face around the edge of his paper. I recognized him immediately.

"Death," I breathed.

"To answer your first question," he said simply, "I believe that this took place in northwest Minnesota. But, you are technically in your Heaven."

 _Heaven?_ I stared at him in shock. _What?_ "I, I died?"

He turned a page in his newspaper. "Yes, we've now had the pleasure of finally meeting." He looked at me over his paper. "I don't normally make house calls, but you were so elusive that I had to greet you at your arrival." He brought his paper back up.

In shock, I turned back to the children playing in the distance. So that was… me. I was over there, and I was sitting here, and I had a body dead… somewhere. Because that's what I was—I was… dead.

Death dramatically brought down his paper. "Yes, I imagine that you're quite shocked that you are dead. You've only brushed my touch a million times." His skinny eyebrows inched incredulously up his paper-thin face.

I let out a shaky breath. Not that it mattered. I didn't really need to breathe anymore. "I'm in Heaven?"

Death glanced around. "Well, I wouldn't call this Hell."

I looked around and understood. _Yeah. I guess green parks in the spring weren't exactly Hell-material._ The little boy in the distance tackled the larger one, catching my eye. "Are Sam and Dean OK?"

Death leaned back against the bench. "Their baby sister has just died in a fit of agonized screams. I imagine that they are far from it."

Guilt and worry clenched my chest. "Can I go back? Just to… say goodbye?"

Death turned to look at me. His expression was dry. "I don't think you understand the permanence of the afterlife. But, you are a Winchester, so the idea would be lost on you." His gaze traveled back to the playing children.

I closed my eyes in defeat. My poor brothers. I wasn't supposed to go like this. I mean, there really wasn't a more fitting alternative for Katelyn Winchester, hunter of all things supernatural. But my twin shouldn't have to hold my cold, limp hand. My big brother who had spent his best years raising me, shouldn't have to lift me in his arms one last time for a burial. Life was unfair.

And death was cruel.

"I, my dear, am not cruel," Death said. "I am as fair as anything can be."

Tears were welling in my eyes as I shook my head. My god, I knew that Death deserved my body more than anything; I'd flirted with him too many times to count. But I still couldn't accept that this was the way my life had concluded. That this was how it all ended.

"This isn't a horrible end," Death told me. His eyes were on the children, and I followed his gaze. The little boy and the larger one were rushing across the field, toward us, with large grins. "There are far worse eternities to meet."

"Katie!" Dean was about eleven, and his teeth were slightly too big for his lightly-freckled face. "Come play with us!"

"Yeah, come on!" Sam plead, grabbing onto my hand and lightly trying to pull me off the bench. He was seven, and his chestnut hair sported a goofy bowl-cut.

I turned to Death. This was how I spend my days forever more, but I knew Death would never return. "Can you tell them? My brothers? That… that I love them and that I'm OK now?" My tears rolled down my cheeks and blurred my vision. Memories would do for now. I would just have to wait for my brothers to join me here. I could wait. I would wait forever for my best friends.

Death stared at me. His expression toyed between deliberation and reverence. Eventually, he admitted, "I will miss you, Katelyn. You have been one of the most intriguing humans I have ever encountered."

I turned to my young brothers as they smiled up at me. I pushed a smile back to them, despite my watery eyes. I was ready to go.

"For that, I shall offer you a choice," Death continued. My head turned instantly as I watched his neutral face say, "You may remain here, if you so desire it. It has its perks. No more pain or suffering. Your needs will never again be unmet, and no evil thing will reach you here. You will never face the possibility of ending your eternities in Hell."

His expression was entirely sober as he continued, "Or you may travel back with me. You will return to your body as it is, and you will live your life again."

I stared at him in awe. I wasn't sure if I even still had a heartbeat, but it felt like my heart was trying to pound its way out of my body. "Why—why are you…?" I didn't exactly want to look this horse in the mouth, but goddamn— _why?_

His thin lips were unimpressed. "I did mention you were a Winchester; your family seems to have a knack for standing me up." I grinned at that, and a ghost of his own grin tilted his thin lips. "This time, the free pass is from me. In honor of our first official meeting."

My chest tightened, and my mind soared. Death was allowing this. He was doing this simply because… he wanted to.

"So, what will it be?" Death asked with a bony hand extended towards me. "I have other appointments, Miss Winchester."

A tug came from my left hand, and I saw Dean's large, green eyes plead for me to stay. My resolve faltered for a moment, but I knew those eyes weren't real. Their real owner needed me to go back to him.

"I'll be back," I told my young, frowning brothers as they watched me stand. "Hopefully, not too soon, but we've got all the time in the world for this, right?" Their lower lips jutted out, but they respectfully dropped my hands. (That was another indicator that they weren't real; the real Sam and Dean Winchester would have sat on my head until I promised to never ditch their asses.)

I turned to Death and placed my hand in his. He gracefully stood, watching me with intelligent eyes.

"Take a deep breath," he told me. I obeyed. "And—"

I was gasping, choking my way into consciousness. I heaved breaths in and out of my lungs as I blinked up at a starry, night sky. The ground was dusty and hard underneath me.

 _I'm alive._


	17. What's a Jesus Allusion

**And here it is: our final (real) chapter! What a whirlwind. (This story will have an epilogue that I'll be posting tomorrow.) As always, thank you for all of your continued support!**

 ** _Chapter 17: What's a Jesus Allusion Without a Miracle or Two?_**

"Oh, _God!_ " The choked, emotional voice came from somewhere around me.

I focused my eyes the scene around me, but I didn't really have the strength to lift my head. The whole coven of witches were still lined in a circle around me, and they all looked pretty spent.

Dean and Sam rushed towards me, gathering me in their arms the second their knees slammed into the dirt. They crushed me to their chests, and I felt pure satisfaction with my choice to return to these two.

" _God,_ oh, _Katie._ " Dean's voice broke on my name. I looked up to him and found his expression to be entirely distraught. Sam and I were crying and clutching each other, but Dean's vice grip and reaction made it seem like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"I'm OK," I assured him through a hoarse voice. "It's over."

Dean let out a pitiful sound and held me closer.

"Darla!" Sam called the original witch over to us. Reluctantly, Sam let Dean take full hold of me and straightened into his kneeling position. The witch walked over as Dean rocked me to his chest. Sam fished into his jeans' pocket and pulled out the hand-written pamphlet that Kevin had left behind.

"We need you to break this curse over Dean," Sam begged, pointing to the certain written curse and the vague instructions to undo it. He explained the situation and pleaded for her help.

Dean didn't acknowledge them at all; he kept his eyes clenched shut as he rocked me against him. I was too drained to do much of anything but observe.

Darla nodded and looked to me and Dean. "I'll have the angel take me to my home for the necessary ingredients. I will be back with what you need."

Sam nodded his gratitude, and Darla let Cas zap her away. A quick glance around made me realize that the rest of the witches were already gone.

Sam leaned back so that his thighs rested against his calves and heels. His weary gaze traveled to me before rushing over with renewed relief.

I held out my hand for him, and he took it gratefully. Dean still never let up on his grip on me, but the rocking slowed to a stop.

"Don't ever do that again," Sam told me sternly, dashing at his tears with his free hand.

"You're such a bitch," I told him with a shit-eating grin.

"Pansy." He narrowed his eyes playfully at me as he grew a grin of his own.

Dean shot out a hand, latched onto Sam's shirt, and pulled him close to us. "And I'm a jerk." With a smile, I looked up at my big brother's entirely-anxious-yet-heavily-relieved face. "God, I'm going to wrap the two of you in bubble wrap and then throw you into Bobby's panic room."

I patted Dean's cheek sympathetically, meeting prickly stubble with my palm. "You need to shave." I closed my eyes as my exhaustion rolled me over. "You're turning grizzly."

"Like a bear?" Dean's tone was confused but a little proud.

"Like an old man." Sam's tone was deadpan. "Grizzly means gray-haired, Dean." I smirked at the accurate definition.

"Well, how am I supposed to know that!" Dean was offended, making me fully smile. "I'm not a walking dictionary like you two nerds!"

I opened my eyes long enough to exchange a knowing look with my twin brother.

* * *

The three of us were huddled together on the porch swing, me sandwiched in the middle. Dean's grip was firm around my shoulders, and I could feel him trembling slightly.

"Dean, are you OK?" Sam asked. We'd been sitting in silence for the past fifteen minutes, and I'd hoped that Dean would begin to calm down. So far, he was still an anxious, sweating mess.

"I'm fine," he assured us. He rubbed his face. "Listen… Guys, we gotta get somewhere safe. All those witches know where we're at, and I just can't…" He shook his head and rubbed his face again.

"But we _want_ them to know we're here." I gave him a confused look. "Darla still has to come back to break your curse."

Dean shook his head and stood, letting me sag tiredly against the swing. "No. It's too risky. We gotta get somewhere safer. Like, like Bobby's bunker."

Sam frowned. "I thought you were kidding about that."

Dean turned his frantic eyes to our brother. "Well, I ain't kidding around anymore. This is serious. We need to go now." He turned and marched over to the Impala, popping the trunk to prepare for departure.

Sam turned to me, worry etched into his expression. "He's losing it."

I raised an eyebrow. "I think he's already lost it, Sammy."

Sam shook his head and stared over at our franticly packing brother. I knew he wasn't disagreeing with me; he was disagreeing with this whole situation. "We need that potion or whatever the hell it is that will fix him."

Dean burst back up the porch stairs, eyes landing on us in a panic. They dimmed with faint relief as he saw that we were unharmed, but then fired up again as he restarted his tirade. "Come on! What the hell are you two still sittin' around for? Grab your crap! Let's go!"

I lethargically pushed myself into a proper sitting position, but that was about all I could muster. The whole curse and near-death experience had really taken their tolls on my body.

Sam hovered over me. "Dean, we gotta at least stay the night, man. Kate's been through enough."

Dean's eyes zeroed in on me and soaked in my condition. "She can stretch out in the car. We just gotta get out of the danger zone."

Sam stood straight and faced him. "Dean, there _isn't_ any danger zone! Those witches helped us!"

Dean scowled. "Yeah, well, forgive me if I'm not too trusting of witches! They can screw us over in a heartbeat! _Again!_ "

"They're trying to help you!" Sam defended, throwing out his arms.

 ** _"_ _I don't need help!"_**

Sam and I blinked at Dean. He was visibly fuming, his chest heaving and sweat rolling down his flushed face. It was official: he had lost it.

As we remained stunned, Dean growled and marched towards us. He grabbed onto Sam's arm and began forcing him to walk towards the house.

"Dean, we're not going anywhere!" Sam fought him, trying to push his firm hands off his arm. "We need to wait for Darla!"

"Screw Darla!" Dean yanked Sam harder, dragging him towards the front door. I stared in shock. What the hell could I have done? I was barely capable of standing, let alone fighting off those two combat-trained mountains.

"Dean, get off!" Sam shoved at his arms, and Dean latched on harder. They began wrestling, pulling aggressively on each other. They ended up stumbling to the wooden porch with a solid thud. Dean was on top, and with horror, I saw him struggling to reach for Sam's throat.

"Dean, stop it!" I shrieked, struggling to my feet. _What the hell is he thinking?! I thought this fucking curse was supposed to make him protective—not homicidal._

"I'm just gonna knock him out!" Dean ground out in defense, still mid-struggle with my twin. "I'm dragging your asses into that damn car if it's the last thing I do!" Sam and I gaped at him in horror. _Oh, God._

What was I supposed to do? I couldn't fight him off. Sam was barely keeping him at bay. Even if we started complying and got into the car, I didn't want us to be in that situation; Dean wasn't in his right mind, and I honestly didn't want him behind the wheel.

So I did what any stupid and reckless Winchester would do: I pulled my gun out of my jeans and pointed it at my oldest brother. Neither of them noticed; Dean continued struggling to wrap his hands around Sam's throat, and Sam was completely focused on fighting him off.

"Get off or I will shoot you, Dean," I vowed, keeping my gun level. "I swear to God."

As Sam glanced anxiously up at me, Dean just threw me a glare. "Stop being an idiot, Katie. Put your damn gun away and go to the car!" He went back to ignoring me and focused on our brother. He realized he wasn't going to get his hands on Sam's air supply, so he started trying to land punches in the hopes that he could knock our brother unconscious.

How could I have made him listen? I lowered my gun as I realized that he didn't give a damn if I tried to shoot him off. He didn't value himself as much as I valued him. But… he valued Sam. And me. So, it was either threaten Sam or…

I brought the gun back up and pointed it at my temple. Even though it was my own hand behind the trigger and I would never fire, the barrel of a gun at my head made me cringe. I steeled myself up and glowered. "Hey!"

Both brothers looked up and instantly became affronted at the sight of me with a gun to my head.

"Kate, stop! I got this!" Sam ground out from underneath Dean. I wanted to roll my eyes at that.

Dean's eyes were still panicked, but they narrowed on me in disbelief. "You're not that stupid. Put the gun down."

I cocked it and met his gaze head-on. "Wanna bet?" _Ugh. Who the hell challenged the idea that they weren't stupid?_

Dean tensely turned back to Sam and was able to land a punch. Sam fell into a stupor, awkwardly resuming his fight against our brother.

 _Oh, dear God. Why do I always have to be the freaking damsel?_ With a prayer that Cas and Darla would come back quickly, I lowered the gun. I lowered the gun to my leg (away from the arteries because I still had a smidge of common sense) and fired the damn thing.

Both brothers froze and looked up to me in horror. As I stared at their dumbfounded faces, the pain exploded from my calf. I cried out and crumpled to the porch. _God, I was seriously so stupid._

"Kate!" Dean forgot all about Sam ( _praise the freaking Lord_ ) and released him. He stumbled towards me with a look of horror.

As Sam stared at me in shock, I glared at my twin. " _Goddammit_ —knock him out, Sam!"

Luckily, he didn't need to be told twice. As Dean knelt towards me, Sam pulled out his own gun and pistol-whipped our oldest brother in the head. Dean fell to the wood, instantly unconscious.

I gritted my teeth and clamped my hands over my bleeding leg.

Sam crouched down at my side, looking it over. "Well, you didn't hit an artery."

"No shit." I glared him down. "I'm not completely stupid."

His gaze was unamused. "Your self-made bullet hole begs to differ."

"Yeah, got me there," I ground out, pushing myself to sit against the side of the house. Sam helped me lean there.

"What the hell were you thinking, Kate?" Sam shook his head in dismay and helped me keep pressure on the leg.

I slumped against the house. I was so stupidly tired. "It was a moment of panic, and I didn't handle it well, alright? But I didn't exactly see you doing too hot either."

Sam threw me a look. "I was fine."

I slowly swatted at the air, miming him from earlier. "No, Dean!" I kept my voice at a pathetic whine. "Please don't strangle me to death." I weakly pawed at the imaginary hands on my neck.

Sam rolled his eyes and swatted my hands down. "OK, I'm not that pathetic."

I raised a challenging eyebrow.

He narrowed his eyes on me. "Forgive me if I didn't want to physically hurt my brother."

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, he could try to play this off all he liked. It didn't change the fact that he had been putty in Dean's psychotic mitts.

Cas and Darla reappeared out of thin air. As Darla soaked in the sight, Cas's eyes widened. "What… happened here?"

I was too exhausted to deal with this crap, so I left it to Sam.

"Please tell me you can break the curse," he pled with his Big Ol' Eyes.

Cas's eyes trailed down to Dean, but Darla stepped forward and held up a mason jar of dark sludge. "This should rid him of his spiritual ailment."

"'Should?'" I challenged tiredly. This sounded like the hokey disclaimers fake drug companies spouted.

"One way to test it," she responded, turning expectantly to my unconscious brother.

Cas leaned down and touched his fingers to my forehead, healing me. The flaring pain in my leg instantly dissolved, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. Cas turned and repeated the same process to Dean with a touch to his temple.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shot up, wildly looking around. He glared at Sam before his anxious gaze landed on me and my leg. He quickly realized that underneath the blood smear, it'd been healed.

"Drink this," Darla instructed, pushing the gross potion under Dean's nose.

He took a whiff and made a sound of revulsion. "No fucking way."

Darla was not amused. "It's supposed to heal you, not taste like a Pina Colada."

"I'm _done_ with witches!" Dean protested, shoving the jar away and glaring at Darla.

Cas glanced at Sam and me before taking the jar and shoving it to Dean's mouth, one hand holding Dean's head down. "Drink the potion now or I will be forced to use extreme measures." Even though he struggled, Dean couldn't fight off the angel's super human grip.

I looked in surprise to Sam. _What the hell is an extreme measure?_

"Alright, alright!" Dean finally relented after futilely struggling against the angel. Cas released him, and Dean angrily swiped the jar. He took another whiff and grimaced.

"It will heal you," Darla promised Dean solemnly.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure ground-up rat and ass weren't necessary," Dean shot back with a look of disgust. A waft of the smell drifted towards me, and I wrinkled my nose. It really did smell like a public bathroom.

Dean brought the gross liquid up to his face. With a look of resolve, he chugged the whole thing back. By how strained his neck muscles looked, it seemed like the drink was thick and nasty as it seemed.

Sam and I gave each other grossed-out looks and tried to resist scooting a little farther away from Dean.

Dean brought the empty cup down with a grimace. He scraped his tongue against his teeth and chanted, "Ugh!"

With an eye roll, Darla took back her mason jar. "I'll expect you three to be compliant when I do cash in those favors."

"Favors?" Sam asked, surprised at the plural.

She met his stare. "I did rid Katelyn's corpse of her curse's power, and I believe that Dean's curse has now been shed."

" _Has it?!_ " Dean challenged with a voice full of disbelief. He was stick smacking his tongue around and looking frantically for something to get rid of the taste. He jumped up from the porch and ran into the house.

I looked to Sam, and he recognized it too. If Dean was suddenly comfortable enough to leave us out of sight (with a witch, no less), then he must be healed.

"Thank you for everything, Darla," Sam told her, standing to shake her hand gratefully. I nodded my gratitude, still too lethargic to move much. "I seriously can't thank you enough for saving my family. You can count on us whenever you need it."

She shook his hand and accepted his thanks. She nodded her goodbyes to me and then turned expectantly to Cas. The two zapped out of sight.

Sam heavily sat beside me and propped himself against the house. I leaned against his side.

"That voodoo priestess gone yet?" Dean asked, walking through the screen door with a spoon and jar of peanut butter. He took a large helping into his mouth before managing to say, "I wanna know what color my poop is supposed to be for the next week, 'cause it doesn't feel like it's gonna be normal."

I cringed at his imagery. "Thanks for that picture."

Dean shrugged and plowed into another spoonful of peanut butter. His eyes suddenly locked onto me with his parental glare. "If you ever think of pulling that crap with the gun again, I'll kill you, Katie."

I rolled my eyes. It was hard to take him seriously when he was threatening me around a mouthful of peanut butter. "Yeah, no problem there."

"Sorry for trying to punch your lights out, man," Dean grumbled solemnly to our brother.

"Sorry for _actually_ punching your lights out," Sam retorted. He smirked a bit in triumph, and I joined in with a smile.

Dean's pulled his best bitch face. "You pistol-whipped me! I'd hardly call that a fair fight."

"Whatever," Sam said, closing his eyes and ignoring Dean. "I think we need to go on a legitimate vacation now. Or to dive head-first into a brain-numbingly weird case."

"As long as there are no witches," Dean muttered. "I hate being an on-call bitch to these freaking witches."

"I vote case," I grumbled as I closed my own eyes. Dean would get no complaints from me on the no-witches request. "Our vacations always suck."

Dean dropped down next to me. "What are you talking about? I took us on two _awesome_ vacations recently!"

I rolled my head in his direction and opened my eyes to level him with a stare.

Dean rolled his eyes and grumbled something about siblings and gratitude. He dug into another scoop of peanut butter.

* * *

The next morning started early. After a night spent in the lake house to recover, we all wanted the hell out of Lawrence, Kansas.

"Think we can find a case in Hawaii?" I suggested after throwing my duffel into the backseat of the Impala. Dean was inspecting the severely-dented side of the car while Sam packed the trunk. "Maybe we can combine our vacation and mind-blowing case ideas."

"Hello."

The three of us turned quickly, hands going for our weapons. We froze when we recognized the angel.

Cas stared at us, shifting a bit awkwardly under his tan trench coat. "I came to try to… make amends." He cleared his throat. "I know I can't really earn back your trust after I betrayed you." His expression was truly remorseful, and I felt guilty for harboring a grudge. Had Cas been tricked into bringing us to our knees, at the mercy of vengeful angels? Hell yeah. Did Cas realize his mistake almost immediately? Also a hell yeah. Did I forgive him yet?

"But I want you three to know that I will always willingly do anything I can to aid you," Castiel vowed. "I am eternally dedicated to your wellbeings." His blue eyes smoldered us with unadulterated sincerity.

Did I forgive him? How could I not?

I stepped forward and hugged him, making him emit a small sound of surprise. "Thank you, Cas. You came through for us. Like always." He stiffly, gently returned my hug.

Sam placed a hand on his shoulder while I pulled a bit away. "You saved my brother and my sister, and you healed my leg when I wasn't even paying attention." He shook his head reverently. "I would call us square." Cas's expression lightened with gratitude and hope.

The three of us turned and stared at my oldest brother. Dean still hadn't moved, staring at us from the side of the car. After a minute, he crossed his arms and grumbled, "You tried to kill my family last year, Cas. I… I can't just forget that."

Cas's head drooped as he nodded meekly.

His arms still crossed, Dean took measured steps in our direction. "But, goddamn it, Castiel. You saved us after all the crap I spat at you and after I entirely disowned you." He shook his head and shrugged. "You didn't owe us anything, and you still did everything you could as soon as we asked." He walked up to Cas. His eyes pierced him with deeply-rooted respect and gratitude. Dean stuck out his hand as a peace-offering. "You'll always be a part of the family, Cas."

Reverently, Cas took the extended hand and shook it. His expression swelled with hope.

I grinned and shoved Dean closer to our embrace. The men made grunts of surprise as I squeezed the four of us together. "I love you guys."

"Yeah, OK, chick flick moment over," Dean groused as he pushed his way out of my hold. I released them with a smile. "Alright, let's hit the road." Dean walked around Baby to the driver's seat and opened the door.

Sam and I smiled at each other and walked over to the driver's side. As per usual, I got into the backseat behind Brother Long Legs. Dean climbed in after Sam clambered all of his limbs over to the passenger's seat. (We seriously needed to fix the passenger side's doors.)

Dean revved the car and waited for a moment. He glanced into the rear-view mirror before grumbling and leaning out his open window. "Cas! Get the hell in here!"

From the rear-view mirror, I watched Castiel's stoic expression roll into one of surprise and then warm over with humble affection. He zapped himself onto the seat beside me.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed as my brothers jumped at his sudden appearance.

"Sorry," he admitted bashfully. "I forgot about… doors."

I smiled warmly and leaned back against my seat. _Same old Cas._

"Yeah, just walk in next time, alright?" Sam suggested with a fond look of amusement. Cas nodded, and Dean drove us onto the dirt path and away from the lake house.

I leaned forwards, in-between the two front seats, and started fiddling with the cassettes.

"I don't know why you think that just because you died that you get to pick the music all of a sudden," Dean told me. He swatted at my hands while keeping the car on the road. "Driver picks the music, kid! Backseat sits back—"

"And shuts her cakehole," I finished for him. I grinned as the cassette auxiliary adapter connected to my phone's music successfully. My music started thrumming around the car.

"Freaking Radiohead," Dean grumbled his acknowledgement of the song as the lyrics started up. He wasn't their biggest fan, but he knew that I was; he generously didn't eject the song.

"' _This is a low flying panic attack. Sing a song on the jukebox that goes…'_ " the song sang as the Impala drove us out of Lawrence, Kansas. "' _Burn the witch.'_ "


	18. Epilogue: All Things Must End

**_Epilogue: All Things Must End_**

It'd been a couple days of being on the road. I woke up in the dark backseat of the Impala, tiredly trying to figure out where we were. Underneath the moonlight, the increasing number of palm trees looked familiar…

"Where are we?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. In the passenger seat, Sam had been lightly dozing but jerked awake at my question.

"Lang, Florida," Dean told me, keeping his eyes on the road.

I frowned. Why the hell were we heading back to Nowheresville?

Sam turned towards me and softly explained, "Caroline's funeral is in the morning… We thought you might want to be here."

I blinked in surprise, and my lungs stuttered at the mention of the woman. I'd been (selfishly) trying not to think about her, because there was nothing but guilt festering behind that door.

"We don't have to go," Sam said, his big hazel eyes focused on me. "But we wanted to be here so you could have the option."

Tears pooled in my eyes, and I reached forwards to pull my twin into a hug. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. I should be here."

As Sam hugged me back, Dean cut in, "Hey, I helped create this brainchild. And I don't see _Sammy_ here driving your ass back to Florida."

I rolled my eyes, gave Sam a kiss on the cheek, and then released him. Dean expectantly tilted his head, and I obligingly kissed his cheek. I reached forwards and hugged him from behind while he drove. "You're such a dick." I grinned.

Dean blew past the Lang, Florida town sign. "I'm freakin' awesome." He smirked cockily as Sam rolled his eyes. I sucked on my index finger and then shoved it into Dean's exposed ear.

" _Son of a bitch!_ " The car swerved a bit as Dean jerked his head away from my Wet Willy. He threw a glare at me as I cackled and returned to my seat. "God, I swear it's like you're five!"

Sam rolled his eyes and pointed out the first motel we'd stayed at as it rolled into view. I slowly lost my grin as my memories of this town came with the sight.

"Where'd Cas go?" Sam asked, throwing a glance to the backseat as we got out. I looked with him; I hadn't even noticed that our favorite angel had disappeared while we were asleep.

"He's checking out some possible cases for us to head to after…" Dean glanced at me and amended "Caroline's funeral" with "…tomorrow." He left Sam to crawl out and shut the driver's door.

Sam gave a tentative nod and then pointed towards the front desk. "I'll go get the room." He headed towards the office as Dean and I popped the trunk to unload.

It was quiet for a moment, and I figured it'd be a good time to express my gratitude. "Thank you, Dean. Really. I would've regretted not being there tomorrow."

Dean closed the trunk and leaned against his Baby. "I ain't complainin' about you thankin' me, but it really was Sam's idea."

I leaned against the car next to him and crossed my arms. "Well, thanks for being here for me, then. I haven't really thanked you for that yet. Thanks for looking after me—even when I was an ignorant bitch to you."

He scoffed. "You know I'll always take care of you, Kate. Bitchiness and all."

The edge of my lips tweaked up. "Yeah, well, thanks for swallowing your gigantic sense of pride and calling Cas. And for letting the witches help. I don't know if I would've been as willing if I'd been in your shoes."

He let out a hard sigh and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to his side. "Yeah, you would've. You, and me, and Sam—we all go freaking nuts when something bad is happening to each other. There isn't a bitch-witch I wouldn't've befriended to save your asses."

I leaned my head against his shoulder. Yeah, we had the whole do-anything-for-each-other thing down pat in this family—at least when it came to our physical health. But when it came to our emotional wellbeings—that's where we sucked. And I still wasn't over the most recent emotional betrayal. "Dean, why'd you lie about Kevin?"

Dean let out a breath and pulled his arm off of me to drag it down his face. "Do we gotta do this now?"

"What?" I demanded. I needed to know. "Were you seriously going to let me believe for the rest of my life that Kevin was doing just fine somewhere?"

"Well, he was," Dean defended lamely.

I shook my head. "You left him to die, Dean. Why?"

Dean squinted his eyes, giving me an are-you-serious look. "He was a witch, Kate. He'd already targeted you before, so I figured the world would be better without him. And hey—I was right."

I clenched my jaw. "We don't kill people, Dean."

His expression remained incredulous. "You didn't bitch about it when Sam shot the other two witches last year."

I flinched as I thought back to that night. That night where those women had tortured me with brutal images of my family and—

"No," I defended, "you're right. But we didn't leave them to burn alive."

Dean's expression clouded over with guilt at that. "I feel bad about that, alright? But after this past week? God, I wish that bastard had burned to ashes." His heavy, burning gaze bore me down, but I stared back. I didn't know how to fight him on this anymore than I had. How could I convince somebody that they should feel sorry?

Sam came over, holding the room key and looking between us quizzically.

Fine. If both of my brothers were in front of me, I could let this out: "You two lied to me. The other stuff is bad, but that—the fact that you guys purposefully lied to me and pushed me away emotionally? _That's_ what I care about. It's shit like this that makes me lose my full trust in you guys." And with that, I picked up my duffel bag, swiped the keys from Sam's hand, and headed for the room.

"Ugh, Kate!" Dean called after me. "Don't be so freakin' dramatic. Come on!"

 _Yeah, because_ that _charmer was supposed to win me over._ I pushed into the room and ignored both of them. My brothers stayed by the car to exchange a soft argument as I shut the door.

By the time they came back in, I was ready for bed and blatantly pretending they didn't exist for the night. I'd already shoved myself into the corner of the farthest bed and faced the wall.

As Sam locked himself in the bathroom to get ready for bed, my bed dipped, and Dean huffed a sigh. I kept myself turned away from him.

"Katie, I know I screwed up, alright?" Dean's voice was soft. I tried not to let my heart be pulled by the vulnerability in it. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was trying to _stop_ the pain from that night from hurting you. You didn't need to know about Kevin or what I'd… done."

"Yeah, well," I brushed a hand over my weary eyes, "that sure worked out, didn't it?" My dry tone cut our conversation, and Dean stayed silent behind me.

After a minute, he quietly got off the bed. I heard the door to the room open and close.

I frowned and felt irrational tears prick my eyes. I was being a jerk to one of my favorite people in the world. But I felt slighted. And he still didn't regret trying to keep things from me.

I scrubbed my escaping tears away and forced myself into an unrestful sleep.

* * *

I was on fire. My side was flaring with agony, like the whole thing was torn right op—

My side _was_ a gaping pit into my muscles and bone and blood. I looked down to see the little flesh remaining sag into the gushing wound. I screamed until a hand clamped hard over my mouth.

"I can make you shut up, remember?" The raspy voice was in my ear, and his rank breath assaulted my nose. "Don't make me use more than my hands again." Before I could even process his threat, he shoved a scarred, salty hand right into my side's wide wound. I shrieked as the pain exploded and tore through me.

I jerked myself awake, panting and staring at the white ceiling. _It wasn't real. I'm in a motel. I'm—_

"Are you OK?"

I looked over to see Dean in bed beside me, his eyes closed and face shoved in a pillow. His voice was gruff with sleep. "You haven't stopped twitching for like an hour."

"Fine," I mumbled. I dragged my hands down my face, trying to shake off the nightmare. I glanced over at the nightstand to see that it was seven in the morning. Sam was still asleep in the other bed. Even if he was an early riser, we hadn't gotten into bed until after three. Who the hell knows when Dean got into bed.

"What time is the funeral?" I asked.

"Nine," Dean grumbled back.

I knew I wasn't going to get more sleep, so I scooted down the end of the bed to get up and shower.

By the time my brothers dragged themselves out of bed, it was almost nine and I was already waiting by the door. Luckily, they were experts in throwing themselves together at the last minute—we had to be in our profession.

"You ready?" Sam asked with his worried look. I noticed Dean eyeing us as he buttoned up his suit.

I nodded and headed out to the car, leaving my brothers to follow me out.

* * *

Caroline's funeral was a small affair. A couple of women from the Sisters in Faith group had come to show their respects. Caroline only had two living family members left: her cousin (who was about my age) and her cousin's husband. The two hadn't spoken to Caroline since Gregory's death, so they had no trouble believing we were her friends. In fact, they'd been overly appreciative that some of Caroline's friends were able to make it.

Which only piled onto my guilt.

"Kate, I'm so grateful that you were such a good friend to her," her cousin told me with shining eyes. She gave me a hard, quick hug (again) before bringing her appreciative eyes back to me. "I know life had been hard for her after Gregory's death, and your friendship must've meant the world to her."

I wanted the world to conspire and kill me. I wanted the ground over Caroline's grave to rise up and swallow me down; I deserved to be in that coffin—not her. I managed a thin smile to her cousin. "She was a good friend." I excused myself; I couldn't talk anymore about how graciously kind I'd been to Caroline Jenkins.

As I strolled away from the grave with my arms around my black dress, Sam jogged up to my side. "Hey."

I kept walking in silence. He knew what I was feeling, and I knew what he was about to spew. There wasn't a point in responding.

Sam just walked alongside me, limiting his long legs to my measured pace. "Kate, you can't keep blaming yourself for this. You know Kevin was going after the women in that support group—"

"And she would've joined with or without me," I finished for him with a bitter smile. "Yeah, I know."

He pursed his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. He wasn't sure what to say, and I didn't blame him; we'd already talked about how Kevin was responsible. There was no other way to shove the blame.

But I still carried a portion. It was the Winchester way, I guess.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam pressed lightly.

I stared at the lines and lines of gravestones as I walked. It was sobering to know that one day we would all just be a slab, forever lost in rows upon rows. I'd almost been one of the slabs myself three days ago. "About what?"

"What… you're feeling right now, I guess." After I threw Sam a look (we'd had a lot of feelings talks lately), Sam became gently defensive. "It might help. After Jess… it helped when I shared it with you and Dean."

 _Gah._ _He's always stupidly right. And I'd felt better knowing where my grieving twin's head was at…_ I blew out a breath and relented. "I feel guilty that Caroline was targeted. Even if she would've been regardless, I carry blame for that. And when her cousin was consoling me about being such a good friend to her…" I shook my head and stopped as I reached a bench.

Sam offered me his waiting, sympathetic gaze as he lowered himself onto the bench.

I couldn't sit. I paced in front of him and continued, "And I hate that just after she got her life back after who knows how many goddamn years, she gets killed. She didn't get to go out peacefully, and she didn't get the life she deserved."

"I know," Sam agreed quietly.

I turned my sharp gaze on him as I continued pacing. "And I'm mad at you! And I'm mad at Dean. I'm pissed that you two didn't trust me to know about Kevin—"

"We trust you, Kate," Sam interrupted.

"You didn't trust that I would be strong enough to handle it, then," I corrected myself. "I don't give a damn if you were trying to spare my feelings—you two should've told me. And now I don't know how many things you've kept from me over the years. And I'm always going to think that you two might be hiding something from me."

"Kate, we're not—"

"That's not the point," I cut him off, stopping myself in front of him. "The point is… I can't trust you two like I used to. It's not like you kept something life-altering from me, but you damaged our relationship, Sam." I met his sorrowful gaze. "You both did. And I… I think I just need to be on my own for a bit to get over it."

Sam stood up, his eyes locking in on me. "You can work this out with us, Katie. You don't have to be on your own to come to terms the facts that we're stupid and that we screwed up." He ran his hand through his long hair and admitted, "I know I should've told you, and I regret it. I'll never keep anything from you again, I swear."

I felt bed. Here he was, basically begging me to not leave him. He hadn't even done anything truly wrong. I stepped forward and put my hand on his arm. "I'm not trying to punish you guys, Sammy. I just need some time for myself. This past year has been hellish, and I need to step away so I can get over everything." Going solo was something I'd been considering for the past few days, and now it felt just right; I didn't want to be talked out of it.

His eyes searched me, begging for a way to change my mind.

"I've been blindly reliant on you two my entire life," I said plainly. "And I've finally realized that I shouldn't be. And it's not because you two don't help me at every turn; it's just not healthy. _We're_ not healthy. We can't be wholly reliant on each other like this."

"It's worked out OK so far," Sam defended lamely. His small smile was weak; he knew I'd already made up my mind.

I pulled him towards me and wrapped my arms around his middle. He sadly engulfed me and squeezed.

"I'm gonna come back," I promised him quietly. "I'm just going on a walkabout." I tried to memorize the way his chest felt against my cheek as he rumbled a chuckle. I wanted to remember the way his abnormally long arms could block out the whole world.

"Yeah, well, I guess I had my turn," he said, referring to his time at Stanford. He pulled away and stared down at me with serious eyes. "And you can do your thing for a bit if you promise to call every day."

I grimaced slightly. "How are we supposed to become less dependent on each other if we're still talking to each other every day?"

He looped an arm around my shoulders and raised his other up in defense. "Every other day, then. Take it or there's no way you're taking a stupid walkabout."

I rolled my eyes and kept my arm around his torso as we walked back towards the Impala. "Yeah, fine. I'll miss you guys anyways."

We were silent for a moment until Sam asked, "Where are you gonna go?"

I mulled that over. "I'm not sure. Caroline's not going to miss her Cadillac, so I think I'll swap the plates and take it out. Maybe look up some hunts. See where the wind blows me."

He gave me a worried side-eye. "I don't like the idea of you out there, alone on hunts."

"I'll stick to the mellower ones," I amended. _Maybe._

He didn't believe that for a second. "Like supernatural mass-murders and psychotic poltergeists?"

" _Exactly._ " I cheekily grinned up at him.

He shook his head fondly. "Just stay away from any witches, alright?"

I fought back a shudder. "Yeah, no worries there."

We'd neared the parking lot, and I could see Dean leaning against the Impala in his suit and shades. When he saw us getting closer to the car, he waved us along. "Let's go, twinners! We don't got all day!"

My insides were cringing at the thought of telling Dean my plans. I looked up at Sam in desperation.

He understood all too well and unwound his arm from my shoulders. "Yeah, you're alone on that one. I'll try to stop him from tying you up, but I'm not exactly against him here."

I groaned as Sam walked to the Impala. I grudgingly followed, dragging my feet like a kid. When I stopped on the opposite side of the car (I really was a kid) and Sam didn't lower himself across the driver's seat, Dean looked between us quizzically. "What?"

"Dean," I said, licking my dry lips, "I'm not… coming with you."

I couldn't see his eyes behind his shades, but the rest of his face didn't waver in the slightest. "Where the hell are you going? Caroline's cousin doesn't have a luncheon back at the freakin' mansion."

My muscles tensed further as I explained, "No, I'm… I'm gonna take some time off."

He stared at me, not getting it.

"She's going to head off on her own for a bit, Dean," Sam reiterated softly.

"Where?" Dean asked, staring back at me in confusion. "Why?"

"I just think it's time that I tried to do my own thing for a bit." I was trying really hard not to cringe.

His muscles tensed as it finally connected in his head. He leaned forwards, and it was slightly menacing. "What the hell do you two mean by 'for a bit?'"

"Just until I'm ready to come back," I said. It was becoming painful to keep my eyes on his face and not on the asphalt.

"What the hell are you talking about, Kate?" Dean demanded. He pointed to the Impala and ordered, "Get your ass in the damn car!"

His ignorant, bossy behavior fueled my anger. I glowered and said, "Dean, I _need_ to be on my own for now. I'll come back to you guys when I feel ready for that."

He whipped his sunglasses off and stalked around the car, towards me. "Because _Caroline Jenkins_ died?" The disdainful way he said Caroline's name pissed me off.

"No!" I met his gaze head-on, even if I did have to look up a little. "Because you're an asshole, and I can't be so fucking dependent on you anymore!"

He was furiously lost. "Where the hell is all of this coming from?"

"It's coming from the fact that I've spent my whole life blindly following your goddamn shadow, Dean!" I yelled. "And I don't trust you now! Not anymore!"

"Hey," Sam tried to cut in with a meaningful look to me.

"What do you want me to say?!" Dean lashed back. "I screwed up!"

"There's nothing to say, Dean!" I shouted back. "It's over, and I'm leaving!"

He looked at me in irate confusion. "You want me to apologize? Fine! I'm sorry! Now stop being such a freaking—"

"No!" I was clenching my fists so that I wouldn't shove him. "I want you to actually regret it! I want you to promise that you won't lie to me again, and then I want you to actually follow through!"

"I did what was best for you!"

I stabbed him with my pointing finger. "And _that_ is why I can't trust you. No matter what you say, you're always going to do what you think is best."

He was entirely done with this conversation. "Oh, boo-hoo! I'm doing everything I can to take care of my baby sister. Cry me a goddamn river."

I shook my head. He would never understand. "Whatever, Dean. I'm done. I'm gonna split before I try to punch you." I walked away from him and grabbed my shit out of the backseat.

"Kate, stop being so freaking dramatic!" Dean pressed. As I slammed the door, he reached for my duffed bag and pulled.

"Let me go," I ground out, yanking away from him.

" _No!_ " Dean angrily reached out, and his hands latched onto my side. Right where I'd had the thirteen rows of stitches—right where Kevin had carved into me.

Frantically, I clawed at him and dropped my bag. I gasped for air, stumbling backwards out of Dean's hands and onto the pavement. As I struggled to regain control over my brain, Sam hurried forwards. I flinched away from him, and he stopped himself from touching me.

After I could breathe again, I glanced up at my hovering brothers and grabbed my bag. I pushed myself to stand on my trembling legs.

"You don't have to go, Kate," Sam repeated softly.

I shook my head away from his words. "Yeah, I do, Sam." I tugged the bag over my shoulder and kept my eyes away from my brothers. Sam stepped forwards anyways, engulfing me in another hug. I hugged him back, loving him all the more for supporting me in everything I did.

After a moment, I stepped away. We shared a final look, and my twin reminded, "Every other day."

I nodded. "Every other day." I caught sight of Caroline's cousin and her husband walking to their car, having missed the whole scene. I could catch a ride to Caroline's (and the Cadillac I'd 'left there') if I hurried.

I looked over at Dean, and he scowled past me. _Fine._ I frowned and marched past him and towards the cousin. "Hey! Wait up!"

As I jogged over, Caroline's cousin looked at me in surprise. I gestured towards her car as her husband climbed inside. "Could I get a ride to Caroline's? I left my car there overnight."

"Oh, of course," she assured me. "We were just on our way over there anyways."

I gave her a grateful smile and threw my bag into the backseat. She climbed into the front, and I lowered my head into the back.

"KATE!"

I stopped and turned around to see Dean rushing towards me. He looked distraught, and I nearly caved at the sight. _What the hell am I doing?_

"Kate, I'm sorry," he spewed as he reached me. "If you—if you think that this is what you gotta do…" He swallowed and looked at me pleadingly. "Then… we… I just want you to know that I'm always here for you."

I gave a nod. "I just need to try being self-sufficient, Dean."

He nodded hurriedly. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. But you don't need to be self-sufficient, Katie. We'll always be here for you."

My heart drooped into my ribs. "I know."

His expression was hopeful for a split second, but then he saw that I was simply acknowledging his vow; I wasn't staying. With a pained huff, he pulled me towards him and held me in a too-tight hug. "Stay out of trouble, Katie."

I nodded against his chest and forced my tears back. "Always do."

After a moment, he choked out quietly, "I love you, kid."

The tears won. _Why the hell am I doing this?_ I had to battle my throat to bring out the words, "I love you too, Dean."

His hug became even tighter before he slowly released me. He looked down at me and brushed away my tears with his thumbs. "I really am sorry for being such a dick."

I managed a weak smile. "You're always a dick. It's one of your endearing traits at this point."

His faint smile matched mine. "Yeah, whatever." He hesitated before dropping his hands.

I glanced back at Caroline's cousin's car. "I gotta go."

"We can give you a ride," Dean offered quickly. "To… wherever…"

I gave him a dim, parting smile and climbed into the back. "Bye, Dean."

"You'll call right?" he checked, slowly closing the door for me. I nodded with a "every other day" and pulled the door closed the rest of the way.

"Sorry," I apologized to the couple in the front seat. They assured me that it was no problem and started the engine. They said I was lucky to have people who cared so much about me.

I looked out the window to see Sam watching desolately from the Impala. Dean hadn't moved from beside my door, and his gaze locked onto me. "Every other day," I read his lips remind me seriously.

I nodded as the car pulled away.

He stared after me, hands stuffed into his suit pants' pockets. My tears never let up and neither did my brothers' stares on the car.

 _I don't want to do this,_ I thought as we turned out of the parking lot. But I felt like I had to. I felt like if I never tried to rely on myself, I would never be able to when it counted. And I needed to be better than the Winchester brothers' dependent shadow.

I needed to be Katelyn Winchester.

Just before we pulled out onto the main road, I looked back and caught a final glimpse of Sam and Dean.

 **I'm so sad that this story has reached its end! Thank you, everyone, for reading and supporting this story. 'Til next time!**  
 **-Alice**


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